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Copyright  and  by  courtesy  of  Ladies'  Home  Journal 


WILLIAM  SHAKESPEARE 


'He  was  a  happy  imitator  of  nature,  was  a  most  gentle  expresser  of  it: 
his  mind  and  hand  went  together;  and  what  he  thought,  he  uttered  with 
that  easiness,  that  we  have  scarce  received  a  blot  in  his  paper." 

John  Heminge 

From  the  address  of  the  editors  prefixed  __  _ 

to  the  folio  edition  of  Shakespeare,  lb23  HENRY    CONDEL 


THE   BOOK   OF 

WRITTEN  IN  COLLABORATION  BY 
TWENTY  STUDENTS  OF 

®tf*  Intwrfittg  of  Efarilj  iaknta 

Under  the  Direction  of 

PROFESSOR  FREDERICK  H.  KOCH 

of  the  Department  of  English 


DESIGNED  FOR  THE 

fblfsktsptatt  afcrottfrttanj  fflnrnttwrnaraium 

by 

Sty*  g>nrk  wxb  Huakut  ^artrtg 

For  Presentation  at 

THE  BANKSIDE  THEATRE 

on  the  Campus  of 

®fj*  Imtwnnttj  nf  Jfartlf  Eaknta 

GRAND  FORKS,  NORTH  DAKOTA 
JUNE  12  and  13,  1916. 


Reprinted  from  the  Quarterly  Journal  of  the 

University  of  North  Dakota,  Vol.  6.,  No.  4,  July,  1916 

Copyright  1916,  University  of  North  Dakota 


ass 

fAf\\N 


TO 

FRANK   LE  ROND    McVEY 

president  of 

The  University  of  North  Dakota 

with  Appreciation  and  Affection 


6  Shakespeare,  the  Playmaker 


Prefixed  to  the  First  Folio  Edition  of  Shakespeare's  Works 
Published  in   1623 

To  the  memory  of  my  beloved,  the  author,  Master  William  Shak- 
spear e,  and  what  he  hath   left  us. 

Sweet  Swan  of  Avon,  what  a  sight  it  were 

To  see  thee  in  our   waters  yet   appear, 

And  make  those  flights  upon  the  banks  of  Thames, 

That  so  did  take  Eliza  and  our  James! 

But  stay;  I  see  thee  in  the  hemisphere 

Advanc'd,   and  made  a  constellation   there: 

Shine  forth  thou  star  of  poets,  and  with  rage 

Or  influence  chide  or  cheer  our   drooping  stage; 

Which,  since  thy  flight  from  hence,  hath  mourn'd  like  night, 

And   despairs  day,   but    for   thy   volume's  light." 

Ben  Jonson 


"To  the  memory  of  Master  W .  Shakespeare 

We  wonder'd,  Shakespeare,  that  thou  went'st  so  soon 
From  the  world's  stage  to  the  grave's  tiring-room: 
We  thought  thee  dead ;  but  this  thy  printed  worth 
Tells  thy  spectators  that  thou  went'st  but  forth 
To  enter  with  applause.     An   actor's  art 
Can  die,  and  live  to  act  a  second  part: 
That's  but  an  exit  of  mortality, 
This  a  re-entrance  to  a  plaudite." 

I  .M.  (James  Mabbe) 


Communal  pay  iHaktttg 

Shakespeare,  the  Playmaker,  is  a  communal  masque  designed 
and  written  by  a  group  of  twenty  students  at  the  University  of  North 
Dakota  to  commemorate  the  tercentenary  of  the  death  of  William 
Shakespeare. 

The  idea  is  original  in  conception.  Perhaps,  as  our  Professor 
of  History  exprest  it,  when  it  was  first  suggested,  it  is  "audacious, 
but  thoroly  Elizabethan!"  Its  aim  is  to  suggest,  first,  some- 
thing of  the  earliest  efforts  of  Shakespeare  as  an  unknown  crafts- 
man, and  the  possible  beginnings  of  his  "Players'  Scenes"  of  A 
Midsummer  Night's  Dream.  It  aims,  further,  to  suggest  the  mature 
achievement  of  the  playmaker,  gathering  from  returning  voyagers 
wondrous  tales  of  new-found  lands  beyond  the  sea,  and  translating 
them  into  a  magical  play,  The  Tempest — a  play  embodying  the  poet's 
own  vision  of  the  new  world  of  America. 

In  manner  of  composition,  likewise,  the  idea  is  original.  The 
same  unique  plan  of  communal  authorship  by  which  A  Pageant  of 
the  North- West  was  composed  two  years  ago,  has  been  followed  in 
the  preparation  of  Shakespeare,  the  Playmaker.  It  marks  another 
contribution  to  the  new  pageantry  of  the  people,  and  suggests  a  still 
further  development  of  cooperative  authorship  in  making  community 
drama.  It  has  reassured  us  that  literary  as  well  as  histrionic  talent 
may  be  cultivated  by  a  group  of  earnest  workers,  that  not  only  can 
the  people  participate  as  actors  in  a  community  play,  but,  by  colla- 
boration under  proper  leadership,  can  actually  create  a  drama  demo- 
cratic— a  new  art-form  of  the  people,  embodying  their  own  inter- 
pretation of  life. 

But  this  form  of  democratic  composition  is  not  new ;  it  suggests 
the  very  beginnings  of  literature,  and  foreshadows,  perhaps,  a  re- 
vival of  native  amateur  art.  It  evolves  a  remarkable  working  to- 
gether, and  a  result  enriched  with  as  many  viewpoints  as  there  are 
writers.  Most  remarkable  of  all,  perhaps,  is  the  artistic  unity  which 
may  come  out  of  such  composite  authorship — compelling  rhythm  of 
color  and  sound,  of  sunlight  and  shadow,  mellowed  into  poetry, 
native  amateur  poetry  of  genuine  appeal. 

It  may  be  well  for  us  to  remember  in  our  Tercentenary  Com- 
memoration that  Shakespeare  was  indeed  the  consummation  of  cen- 
turies of  experimentation  by  the  people,  the  fulfillment,  after  all 
the  years,  of  the  amateur  spirit  in  England  striving  thru  generation 
after  generation  to  perfect  itself  at  length  in  his  timeless  poetry. 


8  Shakespeare,  the  Play  maker 

Indeed,  Shakespeare's  own  vision  of  the  amateur  America  of 
today  is  reflected  in  the  words  of  his  "admired  Miranda,"  in  The 
Tempest,  the  play  with  which  our  masque  is  chiefly  concerned : 

"O,  wonder! 
How  many  goodly  creatures  are  there  here! 
How  beauteous  mankind  is!  O  brave  new  world, 
That  has  such  people  in't!" 

Perhaps  our  communal  strivings  of  today  promise  much  toward 
a  democratization  of  the  drama,  an  outflowering  from  the  soil  of 
our  "brave  new  world,"  of  an  art  truly  of  the  people — a  new 
kingdom  of  humanity  in  the  drama. 

Frederick  H.  Koch 
Department  of  English, 

University    of   North    Dakota 


The  chief  aim  of  the  nation-wide  celebration  of  the  tercentenary 
of  William  Shakespeare  is  the  restoration  of  his  work  to  the  people. 
In  making  the  present  masque,  the  second  contribution  of  the  Uni- 
versity of  North  Dakota  to  communal  drama,  our  point  of  view 
thruout  has  been  to  represent  him  as  the  playmaker  and  poet  of  the 
people.  Such  purpose  will,  we  trust,  be  sufficient  excuse  for  the  free- 
dom we  have  allowed  ourselves  in  the  use  of  the  materials.  A  brief 
explanation  concerning  the  method  of  work  may  be  of  interest. 

Whatever  has  been  accomplished  is  the  result  of  the  fine 
enthusiasm  and  the  untiring  effort  of  all  the  co-partners  in  the  work. 
The  text  was  written  in  collaboration  by  twenty  of  our  students 
whose  names  appear  on  a  subsequent  page.  Some  wrote  for  the  first 
part,  others  for  the  second  part,  some  contributed  to  both  parts.  One 
group  contributed  verse  only.  Everywhere  in  the  text  there  is 
genuine  collaboration  in  the  writing,  and,  as  director,  I  have  care- 
fully avoided  offering  my  own  phrasing  at  any  time.  The  words  of 
the  masque  are  truly  of  the  students.  They  have  bubbled  up  from 
the  well-springs  of  amateur  inspiration,  and  the  function  of  the 
director  has  been  always  not  to  superimpose,  but  to  draw  forth  and 
lead.  The  entire  product  is  genuinely  communal,  everywhere  there 
is  overlapping  in  the  work.  The  prolog,  for  instance,  was  com- 
posed jointly  by  three  different  persons,  and  thruout  there  has  been 
a  remarkable  willingness  on  the  part  of  each  to  work  for  the  harmony 
of  the  whole.  Thus  the  entire  composition  has  gained  much  from 
the  various  points  of  view,  or,  as  one  of  our  amateur  writers 
whimsically  phrased  it, 

"If  you  can  see  the  world  with  me, 
And  I  can  see  the  world  with  you, 
I'm  sure  that  both  of  us  will  see 
Things  that  neither  of  us  do." 

The  story  of  the  masque  is  in  two  parts,  the  chief  scenes  from 
The  Tempest  being  staged  as  the  culmination  of  the  second  part. 
The  prolog,  the  interlude,  and  the  epilog,  are  spoken  by  an  aged 
seer,  an  astrologer,  with  an  attending  chorus  of  stars,  symbolizing  a 
new  heaven  and  a  new  earth  for  Elizabethan  England. 

In  the  first  scene  at  Greenwich  Castle  on  the  river  Thames,  Queen 
Elizabeth  enters  on  her  royal  barge.  She  is  welcomed  by  the 
country  folk  with  rustic  entertainment  improvised  for  the  occasion. 
The  chief  feature  is  a  play  devi?ed  by  a  then  unknown  player,  but 


IO  Shakespeare,  the  Play  maker 

recently  come  to  London,  Will  Shakespeare.  This  portion  of  the 
masque  is  designed  to  suggest  a  possible  origin  for  the  Players' 
Scenes  from  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream. 

The  time  is  1588,  on  the  eve  of  the  coming  of  the  much  heralded 
Spanish  Armada.  It  is  a  tense  moment  in  the  life  of  the  English 
people.  Beneath  the  surface  of  levity  and  merriment  runs  the  deep 
undercurrent  of  loyality  to  their  queen,  and  the  hatred  of  the 
foreigner.  The  insolence  of  the  departing  Spanish  ambassador  is 
used  to  reveal  the  rare  self-restraint  of  the  queen,  and  her  madden- 
ing nonchalance  in  the  stress  of  national  peril. 

The  second  division  of  the  masque  represents  the  full  fruition 
of  England's  national  life  many  years  later  Shakespeare  has  now 
become  the  master  playmaker,  and  is  represented  as  gathering  the 
materials  for  one  of  his  plays  from  the  colorful  pageant  of  a  May 
Fair  at  Gravesend.  In  introducing  William  Strachey  with  his  vivid 
narrative  of  the  terrific  tempest  from  which  he  barely  escaped,  we 
have  dramatized  as  an  actual  scene  in  Shakespeare's  life  what  is 
generally  thought  to  have  given  him  the  initial  idea  of  the  shipwreck 
scene  and  the  creation  of  Ariel  in  The  Tempest.  The  wondrous  tales 
of  returned  voyagers,  and  an  Indian  painting  of  the  mythical  monster, 
Piasa,  displayed  by  a  sailor,  suggest  to  his  mind  a  magical  island 
peopled  with  prodigious  shapes  and  strange  sprites.  This  monster, 
Piasa,  together  with  native  American  Indians,  introduced  into  the 
scene,  serves  to  indicate  a  possible  origin  of  his  Caliban,  a  primitive 
being  in  a  world  hitherto  unknown.  Shakespeare  is  appropriately 
identified  with  the  part  of  Prospero,  since  both  are  master  magicians 
in  the  realm  of  imagination.  The  entire  conception  is  designed  to 
portray   Shakespeare's  interpretation   of  the  New  World. 

The  work  in  spite  of  all  impediments  we  have  found  altogether 
refreshing;  the  versatile  creative  spirit  of  Shakespeare's  own  time  we 
have  felt  present  with  u?. 

F.  H.  K. 


Direction  of  the  Masque  1 1 


Sty*  Stre rttnn  nf  %  itequ* 

Director  of  the  Masque 
Professor  Frederick  H.  Koch 

Directors  of  the  Production 

Professor  John  Adams  Taylor 

Miss  Ethel  E.  Halcrow 

Mrs.    Marguerite    Myrben 

Director  of  the  Stage 
Miss  Nella  Kingsbury 

Director  of  Historical  Materials 
Professor  O.  G.  Libby 

Directors  of  Music 

Professor  W.  W.  Norton 
Professor  Paolo  Conte 

Director  of  Dancing 
Miss  Esther  Pike 

Director  of  Costuming 
Mrs.  A.  G.  Leonard 

Director  of  Construction 
Professor  A.  J.  Becker 

Director  of  Lighting 
Professor  J.  Floyd  Stevens 

General  Adviser 
Professor  Vernon   P.    Squires 


12 


Shakespeare,  the  Playmaker 


Sty*  GJampna^rfi  of  %  UlaHipw 


Mr.  Lyle  M.  Bittinger 
Miss  Bertha  M.  Brainard 
Miss  Ethel  E.  Halcrow 
Mr.  B.  Melvin  Johnson 
Miss  Catherine  M.  McCusker 


The  Major  Writers 

Miss  Winifred  Nelson 
Mr.  Lars  Rue 
Miss  Merle  Rutherford 
Miss  Hester  Sparling 
Miss  Alberta  Taylor 


The  Minor  Writers 
Mr.  Oscar  A.  Bondelid  Mr.  Rudolph  H.  Gjelsness 


Mr.  Lester  S.  Chidlaw 


Miss  Elizabeth  V.  Kelly 


Mr.  Cecil  McKay 
Mr.  John  F.  Como 
Miss  Beulah  Bomstead 
Mr.  Ewart  Dudley 


The  Poetry 

Mr.  B.  Melvin  Johnson 
Mr.  Arthur  D.  Williams 
Miss  Nellie.  B.  Whitcher 
Miss  Catherine   M.   McCusker 


The  Music 
Mr.  Paolo  Conte 


Committees  of  the  Masque 

2ty*  Qlnmmtlt^B  of  %  Mnat\m 

Executive  Committee 

Professor  O.  G.  Libby,   Chairman 

Professor  Edward  B.  Stephenson  Miss  Merle  Rutherford 

Professor  Charles  E.  King  Miss  Alberta  Taylor 

Miss  Winifred  Nelson  Miss  Bertha  Brainard 

Finance  Committee 
Mr.  J.  W.  Wilkerson,  Chairman 
Mr.  Thomas  E.  Whelan  Professor  W.  G.  Bek 

Mr.  Vernon  Sprague 

Production  Committee 
Professor  John  Adams  Taylor,  Chairman 
Miss  Ethel  E.  Halcrow  Mr.  Carl  Schmidt 

Professor  E.  C.  Griess  Miss  Elsie  Dahl 

Miss  Almira  Jewett  Mr.  Seymour  Anderson 

Mr.  Henry  A.  Doak  Professor  B.  J.  Spence 

Mr.  E.  A.  Daniels 

Construction  Committee 
Professor  A.  J.  Becker,  Chairman 
Mr.  A.  O.  Whipple  Professor  E.  C.  Griess 

Professor  E.   F.   Chandler  Professor  E.  B.  Stephenson 

Professor  C.  C.  Schmidt  Professor  L.  D.  Bristol 

Committee  on  Lighting 
Professor  J.   Floyd  Stevens,   Chairman 
Profccsor  A.  H.  Taylor  Mr.  Frank  A.  Stoos 

Mr.  A.  O.  Whipple  Mr.  Frank  W.  Burns 

Costume  Committee 
Mrs.   A.    G.    Leonard,   Chairman 
Mrs.  R.  W.  Cooley  Miss  Violet  Eastman 

Mary  Howe  Miss  Ruth  Templeton 

Miss  Kathleen  Flynn  Miss  Gertrude   Healy 

Elizabeth  Kelly 


14  Shakespeare,  the  Playmaker 

Committee  on  Properties 
Mrs.  Irma  E.  Poppler,  Chairman 
Miss  Almira  Jewett  Mr.  Harry  Read 

Miss  Mary  McCumber  Mr.  Cyril  Page 

Miss  Elsie  Rohde  Mr.  Porter  Talcott 

Mr.  Duane  Sarles 

Committee  on  Arrangements 
Professor  R.  R.  Hitchcock,  Chairman 
Professor  H.  E.  Simpson  Mr.  Thomas  Whelan 

Mr.   Roy  Myers 

Publicity  Committee 
Mr.  William  H.  Greenleaf,  Chairman 
Professor  H.  R.  Brush  Mr.  John  Rohwedder 

Mr.  J.  E.  Coad  Mr.  John  B.  Cooley 

Mrs.  Irma  E.   Poppler  Mr.  George  A.  Benson 

Mr.  Arthur  Shaft  Mr.  C.  W.  Graves 

Mr.  Paul  Shorb 

Music  Committee 
Professor  W.  W.  Norton,  Chairman 
Professor  Paolo  Conte  Miss  Winifred    Nelson 

Mr.  E.  H.  Wilcox  Mr.  Cuyier  Anderson 

Committee  on  Dancing 
Miss  Esther  Pike,   Chairman 
Miss  Jessie  Grassick  Miss  Nell  Whitcher 

Miss  Dora  McBride  Miss  Florence  Nugent 

Book  Committee 
Professor  A.  J.  Ladd,  Chairman 
Mr.  Lyle  M.  Bittinger  Professor  George  R.  Davies 

Miss  Catherine  M.  McCusker  Miss  Ethel  E.  Halcrow 


Players  of  the  Masque  15 


Sty*  pagmi  af  tl?*  Mmr\\xt 

The  Heralds Professor  George  P.  Jackson, 

Arnold  Forbes,  John  Lundy. 

The  Prolog,  the  Interlude,  and  the  Epilog 

The  Astrologer William  H.  Greenleaf 

The  Chorus  of  Stars Elsie  Rohde 

Jennie  Gale,  Opal  Martyn,  Maude  Cummings,  Reba  Raw- 
son,  Agnes  Hassel,  Stella  Hoskins,  Alice  Brunsvold, 
Florence  Healy,  Agnes  Moe. 

•fev. 

The  First  Part 

Shakespeare B.  Melvin  Johnson 

Queen  Elizabeth Florence  Gallup 

Senor   Mendoza   Harry   Schwam 

Sir  Francis  Drake Benjamin  F.  Sherman 

Lord  Howard Oscar  A.  Bondelid 

Lord  Leicester John   Hesketh 

Sir  Walter  Raleigh Harold  Wylie 

Sir  Martin  Frobisher Percy  Johnson 

Sir  John  Hawkins William  Boyce 

Lord  Cecil Robert  Lowe 

Sir   Francis   Walsingham Frank    Heming 

The  Usher  of  the  Black  Rod Alex  Lindstrom 

The  Chief  Steward Wesley  Johnston 

The  Jester S.  Cuyler  Anderson 

The  First  Merchant Ray  McGavin 

The  Second  Merchant Rudolph  Gjelsness 

The  First   Sailor Russell  E.  Danforth 

William  Nack,  the  Tinker  (Pyramus) Lyle  M.  Bittinger 

Francis  Peer,  the  Glover   (Thisbe) Porter  Talcott 

Tommy  Slats,  the  Blacksmith  (Wall)   Alvin  Johnson 

Alamon,  the   Embalmer    (Moon)    Howard  DeLong 

Star,  the  Baker   (Lion)   Herman  Kneupfer 

The  Ladies-in-Waiting Ruth  Templeton 

Grace  Kolars. 

The  Page  to  the  Queen Janet  McVey 

The  Sailors Joseph  Boyd, 

Deane  Brooke,  Henry  Cottam. 


1 6  Shakespeare,  the  Playmaker 

The  Glovers Lester  Cole, 

Lloyd  Dale,  Clarence  Knudson,  John  Lambe. 
The  Blacksmiths Herbert  Nilles, 

Fred  Mann,  Henry  Murphy,  Smith  Taylor. 
The  Tinkers  Fred   Moore, 

Elmer  Ellenson,  Arthur  Jackson,  Lawrence  Nicholson. 
The  Bakers Melvin  Anderson 

Don   Goodman,   Neil    Duncan,   Frank   Burns. 

Tony  Hempseed,  the  Village  Crier Harold  Bertelson 

The  Queen's  Watermen  Lyle  Helmkay 

Edwin  Griess. 
The  Gentleman  Pensioners Ellwood  Patterson, 

Ray  Green,  James  Cosgriflf,  Duane  Sarles. 

The  Embalmer's  Wife Nellie  Whitcher 

The  Merchants'  Wives Mildred  Mcintosh, 

Maude  Woods. 
The  Glovers'  Wives Grace  Swank, 

Blanch  Heath,  Mary  Barnes,  Blanche  Moen,  Helen  Tombs. 
The  Blacksmiths'  Wives Margaret  Welch, 

Edna  Roadhouse,  Katherine  Allen,   Mabel  Hay, 

Mabel  Davies. 
The  Tinkers'  Wives Erma  Robertson, 

Margaret   McLean,   Lucille  Bennett,    Mabel  Thompson, 

Mildred  Thompson. 
The  Bakers'  Wives Bernice  Clark, 

Marie  Meisch,  Bernice  Church,  Esther  Jack, 

Marion  Spicer. 
The  Children Jessie  Fuller, 

Helen  Brush. 

The  Second  Part 

Shakespeare B.   Melvin  Johnson 

Ben  Jonson Herbert  Metzger 

William  Strachey George  Swarstad 

Sir  Thomas  Gates Oscar  Bondelid 

John  Oxenham Walter  L.  Nelson 

John  Holdsworth Harry  Schwam 

Will  Spencer Harold  Wylie 

The  Young  Townsmen Howard  Flint, 

Cuyler  Anderson,   Joseph   Snowfield. 

The  Mayor John  Rohwedder 

The  Old  Man John  Hesketh 


Players  of  the  Masque  17 

The  Tapster Paul  Shorb 

Tom  of  Bedlam Porter  Talcott 

John  Graham,  the  Puritan Soren  J.  Rasmussen 

The  Ballad  Monger Howard  DeLong 

The  Puppet  Masters Harry  Read, 

Cecil   Lynch. 

The  Constables Alvin  Johnson, 

Lloyd  H.  Fox. 

The  Indians Marchebenus  (Flying  Eagle), 

Temoweneni    (Little  Boy). 

(Full-blooded  Chippewas  from  the  Turtle  Mountain 

Reservation) 

The  Interpreter Mr.  Wellington  Salt 

(From  the  Turtle  Mountain  Reservation) 

The  Bagpiper Dr.  W.  C.  Wilson 

The  Minstrels  of  the  Mayor — 

Ferrex Dr.  John  Brundin 

Piretto  Cheverette   Oscar  Bondelid 

Robin  Hood James  Stephenson 

Little  John Harold  Bertelson 

Wiliam  Stukely Harold  Collins 

Friar  Tuck Frank  Talcott 

Jack-in-the-Green Fred  Wagner 

Much,  the  Clown Bryan  Clark 

The  Hobby-horse Herman  Kneupfer 

The  Dragon Karl  Holler 

The  Alchemist Lester  Chidlaw 

The  Juggler Vernon  McCutcheon 

The  Pastry  Cooks George  Drowley, 

George  Haynes. 

The  Witch Mildred  Noltimier 

Maid  Marian Alberta  Taylor 

Her  Attendants Merle  Rutherford, 

Alma  Olson,  Dora  McBride,  Jean  Lenentine. 

The  Gypsies Florence  Nugent, 

Edna  Smith,  Mabel  LaFave. 

The  Milkmaids Edna  Mares, 

Cecil  Moen,  Hortense  Monroe.  Marie  Hall, 
Margaret  Glasgow. 

The  Foresters  Frank  Putnam, 

Neil  Duncan,  Fred  Ferguson,  Leonard  Cobb, 
Amon   Flaten,  Ted  Wardwell. 


1 8  Shakespeare,  the  Playmaker 

The  Morris  Dancers Hassel  Halverson, 

Arthur  Hjortland,  Ray  Green,  Herley  Gayman, 

Deane  Brooke,  James  Cosgriff. 
The  Farmers Fred  Wardwell, 

Kirk  Bale,  John  Hennemuth. 
The  Farmers'  Wives Kathleen  Cowan, 

Myrtle  Halgren,  lone  Beardsley. 
The  Sailors Gerald   Brennan, 

Orval  McHaffie,  Edwin  Gass. 
The  Chimney  Sweeps Lloyd  Dale, 

Guy  Hilleboe. 
The  Children  Margaret  Libby, 

Margaret  Gillette,  Winifred   Davis, 

Marjorie  Wilkerson,  Frank  McVey,  Duane 

Squires,  Alden  Squires. 
The  Town  Ladies Majel  Chase, 

Helen  Lynch. 
The  Town  Gentlemen Grover  Holt, 

Charles  Teel. 
The  Earth  Spirits Marguerite  O'Connor, 

Ruth   Soule,   Marie  Sattler,   Margaret   Meredith, 

Madge  Arnold,  Marion  Torgerson. 

THE  TEMPEST 

Prospero B.  Melvin  Johnson 

Stephano Lyle  M.  Bittinger 

Trinculo Thurman  Thompson 

Caliban Benjamin  F.  Sherman 

Ferdinand Herman  Wolff 

Miranda Harriet   Mills 

Ariel Agnes  O'Connor 

Juno Gertrude   Healy 

Ceres Elaine  Baldwin 

Iris Alma  Olson 

Sycorax Eleanor  Healr 

The  Prompters Catherine  M.  McCusker  and  Esther  Cole 


The  Masque  is  announced  by  three  trumpet  calls  from  the  Heralds 

Enter  the  Astrologer,  an  aged  man  carrying  a  celestial  sphere, 
attended  by  a  Chorus  of  Stars 

The  Chorus  of  Stars 

Fancy,  fancy,  sprite  divine, 
What  a  magic  power  is  thine! 
Thine  to  bring  the  distant  nigh, 
Thine  to  lift  our  thoughts  on  high, 
Fancy,  fancy,  heavenly  power, 
Grant  thy  presence  for  an  hour. 

The  Astrologer 

O  that  this  palsied  tongue  could  grasp  the  thoughts 

That  glow  within  the  fire  of  one  great  mind ; 

And  seize  them,  hurl  them  broadcast,  far  and  wide, 

Enkindling  embers,  lighting  fires  anew, 

Until  the  landscape  glow  with  Shakespeare's  fame, 

As  glow  the  harvest  bonfires  of  the  plain 

Against  the  somber  dark  of  earth  and  sky. 

Then  should  the  sluggish,  deadened  souls  of  men 

Leap  to  a  blaze.     But  pardon,  good  folk  all, 

If  our  ambition  far  exceed  our  power. 

We  can  but  strive;  you,  too,  must  act  the  part, 

Your  own  imagination  be  your  slave 

And  aid  you  to  interpret. 

Here  behold 
Fair  Greenwich,  with  its  people  gathered  all 
To  meet  Elizabeth, — the  Empire  queen. 
Before  her  gorgeous  court  a  play  is  staged 
The  tragic  tale  of  Pyramus  and  Thisbe, 
Written  for  rude  mechanics  who  mar  it  so 
That  tragedy  gives  place  to  comedy. 
Next  see  that  furious  dupe  from  Philip's  court 
Repulsed  by  England's  queen ;  he  in  defiance 
Admitting  his  defeat,  embarks  for  Spain 
To  fling  upon  the  seas  the  anger  of  his  king. 
Meanwhile   amid   these   everchanging   scenes 


20  Shakespeare,  the  Play  maker 

Moves  Shakespeare,  a  beginner  at  his  craft, 
Gathering  the  varied  strands  of  human  life 
Into  his  wondrous  web  of  poesy. 

The  Chorus  of  Stars 

Fancy,  fancy,  sprite  divine, 
What  a  magic  power  is  thine! 
Thine  to  make  the  past  alive, 
Thine  to  make  all  beauty  thrive, 
Fancy,  fancy,  heavenly  power, 
Grant  thy  presence  for  an  hour! 

The  Astrologer 

And  then  behold  a  change !     A  score  of  years 

Glide  in  a  twinkling  by.     See  Shakespeare,  now 

A  master  of  his  art,  at  Gravesend  Fair 

Still  gathering  threads  of  fancy  and  of  fact 

To  weave  that  lovely  tapestry  of  verse 

The  Tempest,  to  which  his  own  prophetic  gaze 

Looks  out  across  the  rolling  deep,  to  this 

Fair  continent,  America,  wherein 

A  newborn  race  shall  rise  to  praise  his  name 

After  three  centuries.     Such  is  the  spirit 

Of  the  hour,  and  if  we  do  but  give 

Some  thoughts  to  seek  your  pleasure's  company 

We  are  content.     'Tis  thinking  makes  life  larger, 

As  playing  fills  it  up ;  but  to  find 

A  grain  of  truth  in  fairy  nothingness 

Is  bliss,  and  gives  to  play  a  new  dimension. 

The  Chorus  of  Stars 

Fancy,  fancy,  sprite  divine, 
What  a  magic  power  is  thine! 
Thine  to  give  us  visions  fair, 
Thine  to  solace  toil  and  care, 
Fancy,  fancy,  heavenly  power, 
Grant  thy  presence  for  an  hour ! 


Gtyp  Jfftrat  fart 


Time:     The  Summer  of  1588,  the  eve  of  the  Armada. 

Scene  :    Greenwich,  a  quay  on  the  Thames,  and  a  portion  of  the  old 
Kent  road,  near  the  Castle. 

Preparations  have  been  made  to  welcome  Queen  Elizabeth 
at  the  quay  on  her  return  from  London.  A  temporary  throne 
has  been  erected  at  the  right,  and  a  partially  decorated  arch 
marks  the  landing  place  of  the  royal  party. 

A  group  of  sailors,  a  jester,  a  number  of  tradesmen,  and 
the  village  folk  enter.  The  sailors  join  gayly  with  the  vil- 
lagers in  a  lively  dance,  while  the  merchants  and  their  wives 
look  gravely  on  uith  evident  enjoyment.  A  representative  of 
each  of  the  trade  guilds  of  the  village  is  to  take  part  in  the  play 
"Pyramus  and  Thisbe"  before  the  Queen.  They  now  enter, 
escorted  by  their  respective  guilds:  William  Nack,  costumed 
as  Pyramus,  accompanied  by  the  tinkers;  Francis  Pier,  arrayed 
as  Thisbe,  with  the  glovers;  Tommy  Slats,  the  Wall,  with  the 
blacksmiths;  Starr,  wrapped  in  a  lion  skin,  with  the  bakers; 
Alamon,  the  embalmer,  as  Moonshine;  and  Tony  Hempseed, 
the  village  crier. 

A  company  of  merry  girls,  their  arms  filled  with  garlands, 
enter  and  decorate  the  arch  and  throne.  More  villagers  enter. 
Among  them  is  Shakespeare,  who  at  this  time  is  about  twenty- 
four  years  of  age.  He  watches  the  scene  with  youthful 
enthusiasm  and  interest.  The  Chief  Stewart  of  the  castle 
bustles  in,  very  conscious  of  his  own  importance.  A  hugh  bunch 
of  keys  hangs  from  his  girdle,  and  he  carries  a  very  large  pen 
and  scroll. 

The  Jester  dances  merrily  down  the  center  of  the  stage, 
singing. 

The  Jester 

Oh  ho,  oh  ho!  the  Queen  is  coming,  the  Queen  is  coming  to- 
day! 

The  Chief  Steward  advances  down  stage  and  turns  to 
address  the  towns-people  who  have  gathered  at  the  back  of  the 
stage,  left.  As  he  is  about  to  speak,  the  girls  hurriedly  finish 
their  decorating  and  hasten  to  join  the  group  of  villagers.  The 
Jester  mingles  in  the  croud,  successfully  endeavoring  to  distract 
attention  from  the  steward's  orders. 


22  Shakespeare,  the  Play  maker 

The  Steward 

Come,   come,   we'll  have   an   end   of  foolishness.     Are   all   ac- 
quainted with  the  words  of  our  song? 

The  Villagers 
Aye,  that  we  be! 

The  Jester 

Forsooth,   and  have  not  the  verses  been  posted  in  the  Boar's 
Head  this  many  a  day? 

The  Steward  signals  for  silence,  and  directs  the  song,  using 
his  quill  as  a  baton. 

The  Villagers 

Song:     God  save  Britannia's  queen; 
God  save  her  majesty 
Bless  e'en  the  earth  beneath  her  feet 
A  burst  of  laughter,  occasioned  by  the  Jester  s  imitation  of 
the  Steward,  interrupts. 

Bless  this  her  isle,  her  royal  seat, 
Let  all  who  hear  her  name  repeat, 
God  save  her  majesty. 

Alamon,  The  Embalmer 

To  the  Steward 
Hark  ye,  Master  Steward,  my  wife  doth  have  a  goodly  singing 
voice — let  her  then  sing  this  verse   alone  with   the  other   folk  for 
chorus.     (To  his  wife)     Come,  Mistress  Prudence,  and  show  what 
thou  canst  do. 

The  Steward 

Impatiently 
Good  people,  we  must  needs  proceed.     The  time  is  short. 
God  save  Britannia's  Queen, 
God  save  her  majesty — 

The  Steward 

And  now  the  chorus.     Tony  Hempseed,  'twill  go  better  without 
your  roaring. 

Tony  Hempseed  retires,  crestfallen,  but  when  the  singing 
begins  again,  it  is  evident  that  Hempseed's  inharmonious  roar- 
ing has  covered  a  multitude  of  lesser  harmonic  sins,  so  at  a  sign 
from  the  Steward  he  again  joins  in. 


The  First  Part  23 

This  throned  isle,  this  home  of  kings, 
This  land  where  laughter  ever  rings, 
Where  every  Echo  loudly  sings, 
God  save   her   Majesty. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  song,  the  Steward  consults  his 
scroll  with  great  ado,  and  raises  his  hand  for  silence. 

The  Steward 

And  now  for  the  play!     Has  each  come  garnished  in  his  proper 
dress  as  was  instructed  ? 

Those  who  are  to  present  the  play  step  forward  and  bow 
ankwardly. 

The  Steward 

Then  go  where  you  will  make  your  entrances. 
The  players  look  about  in  bewilderment 

The  Jester 

And  where  do  be  their  entrances  ? 

The  Steward 

Pointing  to  right  entrance 
There,  behind  the  throne  your  entrances  and  exits  shall  be  made. 

The  Jester 

Ah,  woe  is  me!     For  then  forsooth  the  lion  will  frighten  the 
queen's  fair  dames. 

Shakespeare 

If  ho  has  been  very  unobtrusive  until  this  time,  approaches 
the  Stezvard  and  speaks  most  courteously. 
Were  it  not  better  your  entrances  be  there? 
Pointing  to  left  entrance 

The  First  Merchant 

Well  said,  and  true. 

The  Steward 

'Tis  not  well  said.     None  but  myself  shall  decide  the  setting  of 
this  spectacle.     Back,  thou  saucy  rogue! 

Sir  Francis  Drake  and  Henry  Howard,  Earl  of  North- 
hampton, enter  at  this  moment.  Sir  Francis  Drake  is  a  man  of 
middle   age,    small    in    stature,    but   strong-limbed   and   broad- 


24  Shakespeare,  the  Playmaker 

chested,  with  a  reddish  beard,  and  brown  hair.  The  Earl  of 
Northhampton  is  forty-eight  years  of  age;  his  face  indicates  the 
manner  of  man  he  is,  a  flattering  courtier.  They  are  followed 
by  Lord  Hunsdon,  Robert  Cecil,  Earl  of  Salisbury,  Sir  Francis 
Walsingham,  Sir  John  Hawkins,  Sir  Martin  Frobisher,  the 
Usher  of  the  Black  Rod,  and  several  Gentlemen  Pensioners. 

The  villagers,  recognizing  Sir  Francis  Drake,  shout,  "Sir 
Francis  Drake!  hail  Sir  Francis  Drake!'' 

Sir  Francis  Drake  acknowledges  their  welcome  with  a  bow 
and  turns  at  once  to  the  Steward. 

Sir  Francis  Drake 

Why  such  angry  tones  on  so  merry  an  occasion? 

The  Steward 

Apologetically,  for  he  is  speaking  to  a  superior 
That  knave  hath   interrupted  our  plans  to  set  a  play  for  our 
gracious  Queen. 

Sir  Francis  Drake 
To  Shakespeare 
How  now? 

Shakespeare 

Mildly 

I  did  but  suggest  that  'twere  better  to  set  the  scene  here  with 

entrances  beyond,   than  to  have  the  actors  approach   Her   Majesty 

from  behind  the  throne.     'Twas  in  the  hope  to  add  more  pleasure  to 

the  excellent  display. 

Sir  Francis  Drake 

Sound    reason,    Master, — and    how    are    you    more    pointedly 
called  ? 

Shakespeare 
William  Shakespeare,  sir. 

Sir  Francis  Drake 
With  a  smile 
Small  wonder  that  your  words  transfix  us,  since  they  come  of  a 
quivering  weapon. 


The  First  Part  25 

The  Steward 
Grudgingly,  to  Shakespeare 

An  you  be  then  that  Master  Shakespeare  who  did  write  our 
play,  your  words  may  have  some  value. 

Sir  Francis  Drake 

As  for  these  arrangements,  the  actors  themselves  shall  say. 

Addressing  the  players 
Will  you  approach  her  majesty  from  behind  the  throne  or  will 
you  burst  upon  her  vision  like  the  sun  from  out  a  cloud? 

The  Players 
Burst!  Let  us  burst! 

The  Jester 
Slyly 
Aye,  marry,  and  the  Armada  come,  we  may  all  be  busted. 

Shakespeare 

Nay,  fool,  not  all,  only  the  great  'tis  given  to  be  statued. 

Turning  to  Drake 

But  of  this  Armada — what  tidings  are  abroad  ?  'Tis  four  years 
now  since  we  first  did  hear  of  her. 

Sir  Francis  Drake 

Oh,  she  is  grown  since  then,  for  by  our  Lady,  the  four  small 
boats  are  to  an  hundred  swelled.  Nor  are  they  small,  but  all  are 
galleons  of  the  best  that  Spain  and  Italy  do  make.  (The  crowd 
gathers  eagerly  about  him.)  Why  they  do  stand  so  far  above  the  sea 
that  they  look  like  moated  castles.  They  are  so  brightly  colored 
that  they  seem  o'er-grown  with  brilliant  blossoms,  but  in  between 
are  dotted  slits,  like  castle  windows,  from  which  cold  Death  looks 
black  from  out  the  mouths  of  guns.  Nine  thousand  seamen  man 
them  and  they  bring  nigh  twenty  thousand  soldiers,  all  tried,  and 
fully  armed  to  fight  when  they  do  win  our  ports. 

Lord  Howard 

But  all  their  fine  men  are  not  such  as  England's  seamen. 
The  sailors  cheer  at  this 


26  Shakespeare,  the  Play  maker 

Sir  Francis  Drake 

Ah,   what   care   we   for  Spanish   strength?     But   this  year   our 
little  fleet  did  singe  the  King's  fine  beard.     (Cheers)     England  yet 
will  win  for  herself  a  place  upon  the  seas  and  in  the  New  World. 
A  cannon  shot  is  heard 

The  First  Merchant 
The  Queen  !     Her  barge  approaches ! 

The  Steward 
Resuming  his  pompous  authority 
All  to  your  places!     Haste! 

The  villagers  make  excited  final  preparations;  the  women 
anxiously  rearrange  their  costumes  and  head  dresses;  the  actors 
retire  to  await  their  cues.  Under  Lord  Hunsdons  direction, 
the  Gentlemen  Pensioners  and  the  noblemen  form  an  aisle  from 
the  landing  place  to  the  throne. 

The  royal  barge,  displaying  a  banner  which  bears  the  red 
cross  of  St.  George  on  a  white  ground,  and  propelled  by  two 
watermen  in  the  Queen  s  livery,  appears  from  the  left  and  glides 
to  the  landing. 

Two  ladies-in-waiting,  a  page,  Lord  Leicester,  and  Sir 
Walter  Raleigh  accompany  Queen  Elizabeth.  Queen  Elizabeth 
is  fifty-four  years  old  at  this  time.  She  is  of  medium  height, 
elegantly  dressed;  her  face  oblong,  fair  and  somewhat  wrinkled. 
Paint  and  powder,  as  well  as  the  ravages  of  time,  are  visible 
upon  her  face.  Her  eyes  are  small,  yet  black  and  pleasant,  her 
nose  a  little  hooked,  her  lips  narrow.  She  wears  an  elaborate 
wig  dyed  a  light  auburn  to  resemble  her  own  hair  in  her  youth. 
Lord  Leicester,  Earl  of  Dudley,  Queen  Elizabeth's  favorite,  is 
a  remarkably  handsome  man,  tall  of  stature,  and  dignified  in 
bearing.  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  is  tall  and  well  built,  with  thick 
dark  hair  and  beard,  a  high  forehead,  a  long  face  with  an  ex- 
pression full  of  life. 

When  the  barge  stops  at  the  landing,  Lord  Leicester  and 
Sir  Walter  Raleigh  very  ceremoniously  assist  the  Queen  to  the 
quay.  The  Usher  of  the  Black  Rod  advances  to  meet  her, 
pages  carry  a  canopy  above  her,  and  the  two  ladies-in-waiting 
carry  her  train.  The  crowd  cheers  in  wild  enthusiasm.  After 
a  few  moments  vain  endeavor,  the  Steward  silences  them,  and 
the  song  is  sung  zvith  lusty  rather  than  harmonious  voices. 


The  First  Part  27 

God  save  Britannia's  queen ; 

God  save  her  majesty 

Bless  e'en  the  earth  beneath  her  feet; 

Bless  this  her  isle,  her  royal  seat ; 

Let  all  who  hear  her  name  repeat, 

God  save  her  majesty. 

God  save  Britannia's  queen; 

God  save  her  majesty. 

This  throned  isle,  this  home  of  kings, 

This  land  where  laughter  ever  rings, 

Where  every  Echo  loudly  sings, 

God  save  her  majesty. 

God  save  Britannia's  queen; 
God  save  her  majesty. 
Let  every  loyal  British  son, 
Support  the  right  'till  life  is  done. 
"Dieu  et  mon  droit" — the  victory  on; 
God  save  her  majesty. 
At  the  close  of  the  song,  Queen  Elizabeth,  having  reached 
the  throne,  seats  herself  and  smiles  graciously. 

Queen  Elizabeth 
I  thank  you,  my  good  people. 

Twenty  of  the  villagers,  with  their  wives  and  several  of  the 
sailors,  advance  and  perform  a  country  dance.  The  Courtiers 
applaud  and  the  Queen  smiles  her  approval. 

The  Chief  Steward  approaches  the  throne,  kneels,  and  rises 
as  the  Queen  extends  her  hand  to  him. 

The  Steward 

Again  we  pray  thy  patience,  gracious  Lady,  an  thou  wilt  be 
pleased  to  attend  upon  our  tragedy  which  the  tradesmen  of  our 
village  will  present. 

The  Queen  nods  in  assent,  and  he  proceeds  to  read  the  pro- 
log from  his  scroll. 

The  Steward,  as  Prolog 
Dear  Queen : 

That  you  should  better  understand  our  play, 
We  tell  you  that  we  come  without  much  skill 
As  simple  players  gay,  to  show  our  poor  array, 


28  Shakespeare,  the  Playmaker 

If  we  offend  it  is  with  our  good  will. 

A  player,  Shakespeare,  wrote  this  tragedy 

And  gave  it  us  that  we  might  please  your  Majesty. 

But  he  had  made  the  tale  too  gentle  far, 

And  we  would  have  it  sad  as  such  things  truly  are, 

So  we  did  fill  the  scenes  with  sorrow  deep  and  black 

Of    tears    and    dreadful   happenings    we   would    not    have    our 

audience  lack. 
It  pleaseth  us,  this  tragedy,  as  now  'tis  done  ; 
We  hope  to  please  you  all,  displease  not  one. 
Our  players  are  at  hand  and  by  their  might, 
They'll  make  all  clear  to  you  and  set  you  right. 

The  Steward  summons  the  players  and  arranges  them  in  a 


Shakespeare 

Speaking  to  himself 
What  can  these  bungling  fools  have  changed  ?     The  Queen  will 
think  me  but  a  scribbling  knave. 

The  Steward,  now  having  his  players  ready,  resumes  his  read- 
ing. 

The  Steward,  as  Prolog 

First,  to  you  I  now  present  this  man 
Pyramus,  the  lover  bold,  who  plays  the  part 
Of  him  who  loves — and  dies — as  no  man  can. 

Pyramus  bows 

And  this  fair  lady,  Thisbe,  I  present  to  you 
Who  also  dies  of  grief  and  heart  so  true. 

Thisbe  bows 

Now  in  our  tragedy  we  needs  must  have  a  wall 
With  chink  through  which  fond  lovers  do  beguile 
Their  weary  time,  and  so  we  needs  must  call 
On  Tommy  Slats  to  act  for  us  as  wall  the  while. 

Wall  bows 

This  man  with  sunny  eyes  and  smiling  face, 
Presenteth  moonshine,  for  these  lovers  thought  no  scorn 
To  meet  by  night  and  tell  their  love  with  grace. 


The  First  Part  29 

Moonshine  bows 
And  last  I  do  present  this  man  as  lion, 
For  by  such  beast  was  Thisbe  scared,  and  dropped 
Her  mantle  fine,  and  only  'scaped  in  nick  of  time. 

Lion  bows 
Anon  comes  Pyramus,  and  finds  the  mantle  sopped 
In  Thisbe's  blood.     He  draws  his  blade  and  dies. 
Sweet  Thisbe  comes  to  meet  her  lover  bold, 
And  finds  his  bloody  body  dead  and  cold. 
For  all  the  rest,  if  you  but  give  us  ear, 
We'll  tell  to  you  and  hope  to  make  all  clear. 

Exit    left,     The    Steward    as    Prolog,    Pyramus,    Thisbe, 
Lion,  and  Moonshine.     Wall  takes  position.     Enter  Pyramus. 

Pyramus 

As  I  am  Pyramus,  of  Thisbe  much  beloved, 
So  I  would  meet  with  her ;  but  Oh !  alack ! 
This  cruel  wall  will  not  be  moved ; 
The  sight  of  my  dear  Thisbe  thus  I  lack. 
You  wall,  you  sweet  and  lovely  wall, 
That  keeps  her  voice  far  from  my  sight, 
(Although  in  truth  it  is  no  wall  at  all 
As  I  am  William  Nack;  Pyramus  for  tonight) 
This  wall  shall  hear  how  I  do  mourn. 

Moans 
For  now  am  I  of  Thisbe  much  forlorn. 
Enter  Thisbe,  left 
Oh !  Wall,  but  show  a  chink  that  I  may  see 

The  wall  shozvs  chink 
Footsteps  which  seem  my  love  to  be. 

Thisbe 

And  now  'tis  night 

Dark  night  which  shines  so  black ; 

As  lovers  seem 

When  they  each  other  lack. 

Oh  wall  so  high, 

Oh !  pray  inform  me  straight 

My  lover's  here? 

Oh  has  he,  too,  been  late? 


30  Shakespeare,  the  Play  maker 

Pyramus  on  one  side  of  the  wall  and  Thisbe  on  the  other, 
talk  thru  the  chink. 

Pyramus 
Looks  thru  chink 
Oh  now  mine  ears  do  see 
My  true  love  doth  approach 
Now  wall,  wert  thou  away, 
Her  cherry  hand  I'd  touch. 

Thisbe 

Oh  Pyramus! 

I  hear  thy  gentle  face. 

Oh  nothing  can 

My  love  for  thee  erase. 

Pyramus 

As  true  as  truest  lover  can 

I  waited  here  for  thee, 

My  heart  was  bounding  as  I  ran 

To  keep  my  tryst  with  thee. 

Wilt  then  with  me  now  fly 

Where  ninny's — 

The  Prolog 
Ninus,  not  ninny,  man! 

Pyramus 
Where  Ninus'  tomb  doth  lie? 

Thisbe 

Oh,  Pyramus, 
I'll  do  as  thou  dost  say ! 
By  Ninny's  tomb 
I'll  be  without  delay. 

Exeunt  Pyramus  and  Thisbe 
The  Wall 

And  now  since  they  another  place  have  found, 
I'll  go  my  way,  and  now  the  wall  is  down. 
Exit  Wall,  left 


The  First  Part  31 

Shakespeare 
How  like  children  these  rude  swains  do  play  at  make  believe. 
Enter  the  Moon 

The  Moon 

As  now  shed  my  sunny  beams, 
That  shine  about  so  bright, 
You  all  can  see  how  it  doth  seem 
I  am  the  moon  of  this  dark  night. 

Enter  Thisbe 

Thisbe 

At  Ninny's  tomb  I  meet  my  love. 
Where  is  my  love  ? 

The  Lion  enters  and  roars,  Thisbe  drops  her  mantle  and 
runs  off.  The  Lion  claws  the  mantle,  and  then  goes  off  roar- 
ing.    Enter  Pyramus. 

Pyramus 

At  last,  sweet  Moon,  by  thy  true  golden  light, 
This  beauteous  eve  I  come  with  heart  so  gay 
And  trust  to  take  of  truest  Thisbe's  sight, 
Shine  on,  O  moon,  that  we  may  not  delay. 

But  what  is  here! 
Go,  Go!     Oh  fear! 
What  evil  do  I  see! 
Thy  veil  all  tore, 
What,  red  with  gore! 
Oh  darling,  can  it  be? 
O  duck,  art  dead? 
Come  sword,  my  head 
Must  from  this  body  fall. 

He  cuts  off  his  head 

Now,  I'm  in  two, 

My  soul's  with  you, 

It's  answered  to  your  call, 

And  thus  I  fall,  'i  fall,  I  fall. 

He  lies  down.     Enter  Thisbe 


32  Shakespeare,  the  Playmaker 

Thisbe 

My  love's  asleep? 
Wilt  thou  not  peep? 
O  Pyramus,  arise! 
Speak,  speak  to  me! 
Breathe,  breathe,  and  see. 
Care  not  for  our  love  ties? 
Dead,  dead?     Oh  dear! 
Speak,  speak  and  hear 
That  Thisbe  too  will  die. 

0  Sisters  three, 
Come,  come  to  me, 
And  make  my  life  to  fly, 
Thy  dagger,  dear, 

1  do  not  fear ; 

With  it  I'll  stab  me  dead. 

She  stabs  herself 
Now  do  I  die 
Without  a  sigh. 
Farewell,  my  soul  is  fled, 
Farewell,  and  I  am  dead ! 

Queen  Elizabeth 
This  is  indeed  a  cruel  tragedy ;  now  both  are  dead. 

Pyramus 
Getting  up 
No,  no,  be  not  alarmed,  most  gracious  Queen. 

We  live  to  die  another  time,  but  not  as  yet. 
Thus  our  play  is  ended,  and  we  hope  you've  seen 

Our  tragedy  with  trusting  eyes,  and  wet. 
If  any  credit,  friends,  you  give  to  us, 

Remember  me,  for  I  did  change  the  lines, 
And  twisted  them  to  suit  myself,  and  thus 

From  Shakespeare's  play  wTe  got  good  rhymes. 
If  we've  offended  you,  we  beg  your  grace, 

And  now  we  go,  dear  Queen,  let  others  take  our  place. 
Exit  Pyramus  with   Thisbe 

Queen  Elizabeth 
'Tis   done   with   good   intent;    as   such   it   pleaseth    us.     Is   the 
author  of  the  piece  among  you?     If  so,  we  wTould  speak  with  him. 


The  First  Part  33 

The  Steward  brings  Shakespeare  forward;  both  kneel  before 
the  throne,  and  rise  when  she  bids  them. 

The  Steward 

Most  gracious  Majesty,  this  be  Master  Shakespeare,  a  player  of 
London,  the  author  of  our  tragedy. 

Queen  Elizabeth 

To  Steward 
Tragedy,  say  you? 

To  Shakespeare 
Methinks  it  a  better  comedy. 

Shakespeare 

V  faith,  my  gracious  Lady,  'tis  not  usual  for  lovers  to  die  in  a 
burst  of  laughter.  As  your  Highness  but  now  remarked,  the  tragedy 
I  did  intend  did  not  appear.  But  as  'tis  a  mirthful  tragedy,  'twould 
fit  well  in  a  comedy,  which  might  perchance  succeed  on  London's 
stage.  J 

Queen  Elizabeth 

Well  said.     'Tis  long  since  we  had  seen  one  die  so  merrily. 

Shakespeare  takes  his  leave  with  a  bow,  and  crosses  left  with 
several  other  gentlemen.  He  gives  attention  to  their  conversa- 
tion but  takes  no  part  in  it. 

A  trumpet  note  is  heard  off  stage.  The  Usher  of  the  Black 
Rod  advances  to  the  right  entrance. 

Queen  Elizabeth 

What  signal  sounds? 

The  Usher  of  the  Black  Rod  returns  to  the  throne 

The  Usher  of  the  Black  Rod 

Sefior  Mendoza,  Ambassador  of  his  gracious  Majesty,  King 
Philip  of  Spain,  wishes  to  take  boat  to  his  ship  from  this  place. 

Queen  Elizabeth 

Bring  him  hither. 
The  Usher  escorts  Mendoza  to  the  throne.     He  bows  very  stiffly 

Queen  Elizabeth 

Ironically 
Are  you  come  to  welcome  us  to  our  own  castle?     Although  we 


34  Shakespeare,  the  Playmaker 

have  but  late  dismissed  you,  you  still  are  welcome  as  an  honored 
guest  to  our  household. 

Senor  Mendoza 

Your  Majesty  doth  mistake  me.  I  am  but  on  my  way  to  re- 
port your  Grace's  decision.  But  'tis  idle  to  lament  my  bootless  errand 
to  these  shores.  Experience,  enow,  has  taught  King  Philip's  envoys 
what  they  may  expect.  First,  we're  received,  but  made  to  feel 
denied;  our  message  is  rejected  so  coyly  that  it  is  scarcely  not  ac- 
cepted; we  ask  the  true  decision  ;-nd  are  dismissed  abruptly  from  the 
court.  When  with  the  No  we  leave  for  Spain,  we  are  but  over- 
taken by  a  later  messenger,  all  in  hot  haste,  who  brings  an  answer 
Egypt's  Sphinx  might  send.  (Queen  Elizabeth  yawns  and  taps  her 
lips  zvith  her  closed  fan.  The  Spaniard  loses  control  of  his  temper.) 
And  all  these  years  has  good  King  Philip  waited  with  too  calm  a 
patience.  And  then  the  brave  Mary,  hapless  Queen  of  Scots,  whom 
you  but  yesteryear — (He  chokes  ivith  emotion.) 

One  of  his  attendants  tries  to  quiet  him.      The  Jester,  who 

has  been  sitting  on   the  grass,  rises  and  hobbles  about,  rubbing 

his  cramped  limbs. 

The  Jester 
Poor  Mary?     Nay,  poor  Davison!1 

During  this  dialog  the  sailors  have  been  plotting  with 
heads  together.  Occasionally  they  laugh  and  congratulate  one 
another  in  pantomime.  One  is  now  pushed  forward  as  a 
speaker. 

The  Sailor 

An  would  ye  know  what  we  do  think  of  Philip,  but  wait — we'll 
set  his  counterfeit  before  your  view !  * 

Exeunt  sailors  with  rough  laughter 

Sir  Francis  Drake 
Our  England  hath  no  apprehension ;  she  is  safe ! 

The  Spaniard,  angered  beyond  control,  retorts  boldly  and 
ironicolly. 

Senor  Mendoza 

Safe?     Have  you  forgotten,  sirs,  the   fate  of  Antwerp,   Ghent, 

1.  William  Davison,  secretary  to  Queen  Elizabeth,  was  entrusted 
with  the  warrant  for  the  execution  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots.  He  was 
at  this  time  in  prison,  charged  with  disobeying-  the   Queen's   instructions. 


The  First  Part  35 

and  Flanders?  Think  not  that  justice,  lacking  haste,  lacks  certainty. 
The  doom  that  has  been  gathering  for  years  stands  now  prepared; 
it  waits  but  for  my  message.  It  sails  in  ships  built  mountain  high, 
like  Alp  peaks  piercing  heaven's  floor.  But  did  not  these  affright 
you,  the  soldiers  that  they  carry  will  dry  your  lips  and  blanch  your 
cheeks  to  lily  color.  Numbers,  great  beyond  belief,  not  as  hordes, 
but  under  charge  of  wise  and  skillful  men,  veterans  of  an  hundred 
wars!  Such  guns  they  carry  as  will  leave  nothing  whole  before 
them.  To  crush  to  dust  thy  puny  navy,  to  avenge  the  breath  sweet 
Mary  draws  no  more,  to  make  on  England  vast  red  and  reeking 
vengeance — there  is  coming  the  Armada! 

Amid  tense  silence  the  Spaniard  turns  and  goes  toward  his 
boat.  The  courtiers,  astonished  at  his  threat,  watch  him  in 
amazement.  Drake,  Howard,  and  others  speak  together 
indignantly. 

Queen  Elizabeth 
%  To  Shakespeare,  ironically 

Do  you  see  the  actor  in  yon  strutting  knave? 

Shakespeare 
The  situation  is  in  truth,  very  like  the  fabric  of  a  play. 
Lord  Howard 
To  Drake  and  the  others 
Methinks  our  ships  are  not  enough,  or  of  a  size  to  oppose  such 
enemies.     But  England's  spirit  doth  not  wait  for  weapons. 

Queen  Elizabeth  interrupts  and  prevents  further  discussion 

Queen  Elizabeth 

A  battle's  oft  half  won  by  boasts,  but  we  are  not  yet  conquered. 
Such  trifles  well  can  wait.  Let  us  a-hawking  go.  My  Lord  of 
Leicester — 

Lord  Leicester 

Dear  Madam,  if  hawking  be  your  pleasure;  but  were  it  not 
better — 

Queen  Elizabeth 

Vexed 
My  Lord  of  Leicester,  think  you  we  know  not  our  own  minds? 
You  are  ever  ready  to  suggest  other  than  we — 


36  Shakespeare,  the  Playmaker 

Lord  Leicester  has  turned  his  head  to  speak  to  Lord 
Howard,  not  realizing  that  the  Queen  is  still  addressing  him. 
Queen  Elizabeth  rises  slightly  from  her  throne  and  strikes  his 
ear  with  her  fan.  He  turns  quickly,  hand  on  sword,  not  know- 
ing who  has  struck  him,  but  the  gentlemen  standing  near  step 
forward  to  prevent  him  from  draiving  his  weapon. 

Queen  Elizabeth 
Laughing  merrily 
My  horse,  Lord  Leicester.     My  horse! 

A  white  charger  is  brought,  the  Queen  mounts,  and  the 
Steward  arranges  the  townspeople  in  a  procession  to  follow  her. 
The  sailors  rush  in  boisterously.  One  of  their  number  wears  a 
donkey  s  head  inscribed  "Philip  of  Spain."  Shouts  of  laughter 
greet  their  jest,  and  the  crowd  follows  the  Queen  singing. 

God  save  Britannia's  queen, 
God  save  her  majesty, 
Let  every  loyal  British  son 
Support  the  right  till  life  is  done, 
God  and  the  right,  the  victory  won, 
God  save  her  majesty. 


®lje  ilnterlufo 

The  Astrologer 

Once  more,  ye  gentles  all,  give  heed;  for  know 

Ye  well  that  spite  of  the  Armada's  pride 

The  realm  of  Shakespeare  and  of  good  Queen  Bess 

Was  not  o'ercome.     From  vale  and  hill  the  voice 

Of  Freedom  sounded:     "Britons,  strong  and  firm, 

Your  children  yet  unborn  cry  out  to  you — 

Make  ^ood  your  answer!"     England  heard  and  at 

The  call  she  to  the  center  shook  as  shakes 

A  youthful  giant  wakened  by  the  sound 

Of  some  approaching  foe.     Her  sons  arose 

And  met  the  foe  in  deadly  combat — fought 

And  won ;  for  nature's  elements  combined 

To  crush  the  enemy.     The  stars,  which  in 

Their  courses  fought  against  the  Spanish  might 

Rejoiced  to  see  the  land  of  England  saved. 

The  Chorus  of  Stars 

Yes,  England's  spirit  won  that  day 

And  set  the  land  forever  free; 
And  that  same  spirit  found  its  way 

To  waiting  lands  beyond  the  sea! 

The  Astrologer 

Full  twenty  years  have  slipped  away  and  now 
Behold  a  fair  at  Gravesend  on  the  Thames, 
A  rustic  May-fair,  where  the  folk  enjoy 
The  day  in  merrymaking.     Ballad-mongers 
Are  singing  ballads;  pedlers,  alchemists, 
Each  one  according  to  the  custom  of 
His  kind,  are  jostling  one  another,  while 
Still  others  lend  their  ears  to  daring  tales 
Of  explorations  o'er  the  Spanish  seas, 
As  told  by  sailors  late  returned  from  lands 
Beyond  the  stormy  main.     Here  see  again 
Our  Shakespeare,  master  now,  still  busy  at 
His  art.     Right  deftly  he  doth  sieze  upon 
Those  tales  so  bold,  and  from  them  doth  conceive 
The  plot  of  that  immortal  play  "The  Tempest." 
The  crowning  work  of  his  maturer  years. 


38  Shakespeare,  the  Playmaker 

The  Chorus  of  Stars 

O  gentle  bard  who  dreamed  that  dream, 
We  hail  thee,  prince  of  poets  rare  ; 

Still  o'er  the  years  thy  light  doth  gleam 
To  glad  our  hearts  with  visions  fair. 


©Ije  £*rattii  Part 


The  scene  is  Gravesend,  a  little  Kentish  village  on  the 
Thames,  twenty  miles  from  London,  where  ships  from  foreign 
lands  discharge  their  cargoes,  and  where,  in  Elizabethan  times, 
visitors  from  abroad  were  formally  welcomed  by  the  London 
Corporation.  Some  twenty  years  have  elapsed  since  the  coming 
of  the  Armada,  and  the  scene  represents  the  full  fruition  of 
English  national  life. 

It  is  mid-afternoon  of  a  warm  May  day.  The  great  trees 
cast  long  shadows  over  the  deserted  green  where  rustic  benches 
invite  to  rest  and  coolness.  In  another  part  of  the  village,  a 
May  fair  is  in  progress  and  at  intervals  the  shouts  of  the  merry- 
makers break  the  stillness. 
As  the  action  begins,  a  chorus  of  mens  voices  is  heard  singing: 

"It  was  a  lover  and  his  lass 

With  a  hey,  and  a  ho,  and  hey  nonino 

That  o'er  the  green  cornfield  did  pass, 

In  the  spring  time,  the  only  pretty  ring  time, 

When  birds  do  sing,  hey  ding  a  ding,  ding; 

Sweet  lovers  love  the  spring."2 

A  group  of  townsmen  bearing  a  Maypole  enter.  They  are 
accompanied  by  Much,  the  clown,  who  carries  a  pole  with  an 
inflated  bladder  at  one  end  with  which  he  taps  the  heads  of  the 
unwary,  Peter  Barker  jantastically  made  up  to  represent  a 
dragon,  and  Will  Spencer,  a  tall  slender  youth  who  is  playing  a 
lute.  They  continue  to  sing  until  they  halt  at  the  center  of  the 
stage. 

The  First  Townsman 

Marry,  friends,  a  goodlier  spot  than  this  'twere  hard  to  find. 

The  Second  Townsman 

And  it  please  the  Mayor,   'twere  meet  that  here  we  end  our 
merry-making.     Come,  let  us  to  work! 

They  busy  themselves  at  setting  up  the  Maypole.  It  is  a 
tall  pole,  painted  in  bright  colors,  and  wound  with  many  colored 
ribbons  and  flowers  of  every  hue.     The  workers  are  hindered  by 

2.     From   "As   You   Like  It,"   Act   V.,   Scene   III. 

Note: — All    quotations    except    those    specially    noted   are    taken    from 
"The   Tempest." 


4-0  Shakespeare,  the  Playmaker 

Much  and  Peter  Barker,  who  annoy  them  with  their  clownish 
tricks. 

The  First  Townsman 

Hey,  you  witless  fools,  save  your  antics  for  a  greater  audience, 
and  lend  a  hand  to  set  this  pole  aright. 

An  old  man  who  has  sauntered  in,  now  comments  reminiscently : 

The  Old  Man 

How  much  this  minds  me  of  that  feast  day  in  November  when 
the  Invincible  Armada  had  cast  away  her  name,  and  the  Queen's 
Majesty  herself  entered  into  London  in  triumph.  Those  were  great 
days  in  London ;  ay,  in  all  England. 

Will  Spencer 

Excitedly 
Ay,  those  were  great  days,  but  these,  in  truth  are  greater  still, 
with  the  merry-makings  at  court,  the  banquets  and  the  balls.  And, 
thanks  to  good  Queen  Bess,  on  the  Bankside  are  many  theaters 
where  plays  are  enacted,  and  all  London  is  merry  over  the  plays  of 
Master  Shakespeare.     Oh!  to  be  in  London  now! 

The  Old  Man 

Reprovingly 
And  you  would  do  well  to  glad  your  heart  with  these  our  merry- 
makings, nor  trouble  your  mind  with  London.     'Tis  ever  so.     Youth 
hath  ever  the  roving  foot.     But  look  you,  Master  Shakespeare  is  him- 
self today  in  Gravesend.     Mayhap  he  pines  for  rustic  revelry. 

Will  Spencer 

Excitedly  starting  forward 
What!     Master  Shakespeare  here?     An  I  can  find  him,  I  can 
perchance  to  London! 

As  he  rushes  from  the  stage  right  the  shouts  of  the  merry- 
makers are  heard. 

The  First  Townsman 
Holla!  Holla!  They  come!  They  come! 

Much,  the  Clown,  runs  forward  and  peers  around  the  gate- 
way, lifting  one  foot  so  high  that  he  falls  to  the  ground  He 
springs  up  just  in  time  to  avoid  being  run  over. 

In  a  motley  array  with  the  mayor  leading,  the  procession 
enters  from   the   left.     Some  are   marching   in   rank  and  file  in 


The  Second  Part  41 

attempted  military  precision,  some  are  pushing  and  jostling,  some 
are  enthusiastically  crying  their  wares,  and  all  seem  bent  on 
making  as  much  noise  as  possible.  The  mayor  is  mounted  on 
his  footcloth  horse,  and  is  attended  by  his  ministrels,  Piretto 
Chei'iretie,  who  plays  the  bagpipes,  and  Ferrex  who  plays  the 
pipe  and  tabor.  Following  in  a  dignified  manner  are  six  woods- 
men dressed  in  leather  garments  and  carrying  axes.  Next  come 
six  milkmaids  with  pails  and  stools,  leading  a  fine  sleek  cow,  with 
gilded  horns,  decorated  with  ribbons  and  flowers.  They  are 
closely  followed  by  the  same  number  of  foresters  in  russet 
doublets  and  hose  of  Lincoln  green,  with  horns  at  their  sides. 
Robin  Hood  is  next  with  his  favorite  attendants,  Little  John, 
If  ill  Stukely  and  Friar  Tuck,  clad  also  in  green,  escorting  dainty 
Maid  Marian  and  her  five  ladies-in-waiting. 

Surging  in,  on  both  sides,  between  these  groups  are  a  multi- 
tude of  characters  common  at  all  such  gatherings.  Chief 
among  them  are  John  Graham,  the  Puritan,  dressed  in  broad- 
brimmed  hatband  snowy  kerchief,  J ack-in-the-Green,  a  tall  man 
with  head  and  shoulders  concealed  in  a  large  triangular  box 
brightly  trimmed  with  herbs,  flowers  and  flags,  and  a  juggler, 
who  performs  balancing  and  sleight-of-hand  tricks  on  his  way. 
Three  chimney  sweeps,  with  their  dusty  coats  brightened  by 
holiday  ribbons  gather  about  a  man  carrying  a  puppet  show  ivhile 
not  far  off  an  alchemist,  wan  and  pale,  carries  with  care  his 
precious  liquids  and  metals.  Peter  Bloff,  the  peddler,  incessantly 
crying  his  wares,  tries  to  drown  the  voice  of  the  monger,  who  is 
proclaiming  the  latest  ballad. 

Three  gypsies  carry  their  tent,  stopping  occasionally  to  beg 
from  the  pastry  cooks  whose  delicacies  on  trays  suspended  from 
their  shoulders  are  most  temptingly  displayed,  or,  when  op- 
portunity presents  itself,  to  steal  fruit  from  a  vender  whose  at- 
tention is  distracted.  A  bedlam  beggar,  an  object  of  pity,  with 
face  begrimed,  hair  elved  in  knots,  and  head  crowned  with 
hawthorne  leaves,  begs  an  alms  from  each  passerby.^  There  is 
also  a  tapster,  stout  and  jolly,  bearing  many  tankards,  followed 
by  three  apprentices  who  are  hauling  in  a  huge  cask  of  ale.  They 
hoist  it  upon  a  stand,  and  the  tapster  proceeds  to  serve  all  who 
come  near.  In  the  background,  an  old  witch,  who  is  really 
If  idow  Goodman  in  effective  disguise,  is  terrorizing  the  children 
with  her  uncanny  appearance  and  evil  eye.     Last  of  all,  Gregory, 

3.     This    character    was    suggested    by    Shakespeare's    conception    in 
'King  Lear,"  and   the  lines  he  speaks  are  quoted   from  the  play. 


42  Shakespeare,  the  Playmaker 

the  Hobbyhorse,  a  short  man  with  a  cardboard  horse  attached  at 
his  waist,  trots  in,  neighing  ludicrously. 

Mingled  among  these  characters  are  many  townspeople,  and 
farmers  with  their  families,  all  in  festive  attire.  The  men 
saunter  about  smoking  long  Winchester  pipes,  the  women  talk 
happily  together,  while  the  children  run  about  throwing  squibs 
and  firecrackers  at  the  feet  of  the  unsuspecting  revellers. 

When  the  Mayor  reaches  the  Maypole,  he  wheels  his  horse, 
and  halts  the  procession. 

The  Mayor 

Fellow  townsmen,  merry-makers  all,  let  us  to  the  conclusion  of 
our  festivities  on  this  so  blithe  a  green. 

The  villagers  cheer  loudly.  The  Mayor  dismounts  and  an 
attendant  leads  his  horse  away.  Many  of  the  people  come  for- 
ward and  throw  tributes  of  flowers  at  the  base  of  the  Maypole. 
Peter  Bloff,  at  left  front,  begins  to  sing,  attracting  the 
attention  of  a  group  of  girls  who  admire  his  laces.  He  con- 
cludes the  song  before  answering  their  numerous  questions. 

Peter  Bloff 

"Will  you  buy  any  tape, 

Or  lace  for  your  cape, 

My  dainty  duck,  my  dear-a? 

Any  silk,  any  thread, 

Any  toys  for  your  head, 

Of  the  newest,  and  fin'st,  fin'st  wear-a? 

Come  to  the  pedlar ; 

Money's  a  meddler, 

That  doth  utter  all  men's  ware-a!"4 

When  not  bargaining  with  customers,  he  sings  snatches  of 
this  song  thruout  the  entire  scene. 

Other  Venders 

"What  do  you  lack?     What  is't  you  buy? 
What  do  you  lack?     Come  buy!     Come  buy! 
Gloves !  masks !  a  necklace  for  your  lady  fair ! 
Come  lad!     Come  buy!"5 

The  Hobby  horse  at  right  front  stage,  amuses  a  group  by 

4.  From  "The  Winter's  Tale,"  Act  IV.,   Scene  IV. 

5.  These,    and    the   peddler's    cries    that    follow    are    taken   from   Ben 
Jonson's    "Bartholomew    Fair,"    Act.    IV. 


The  Second  Part  43 

frisking  about  imitating  the  galloping,  curveting,  ambling, 
trotting,  and  other  paces  of  the  horse. 

The  minstrels  now  play  the  lively  tune  of  an  old  folk  song, 
"A  Farmer  He  Lived  in  a  North  Countrie,"  and  the  crowd 
sings  the  words  while  the  foresters  and  the  milk  maids  dance  a 
simple  but  effective  dance  about  the  May  pole. 

During  the  dance,  from  the  left,  proudly  escorted  by  the 
village  youth,  Shakespeare  enters.  He  is  "a  handsome,  well- 
shaped  man,  delicate  rather  than  robust,"  and  dressed  after  the 
fashion  of  the  time.  His  beard  is  auburn,  silvered  a  little  here 
and  there,  and  hair  of  the  same  rich  color  falls  profusely  about 
his  ears.  The  bald  crown,  which  is  seen  as  he  lifts  his  hat, 
accentuates  the  rather  massive  forehead.  The  charm  of  his  face 
lies  in  the  genial  smile,  and  in  the  ingenuous  sincerity  of 
expression,  revealing  a  "nature  free  and  open,  a  temper  plastic 
and  well-balanced."  His  eyes  twinkle  sympathetically  as  he 
looks  about  him,  while  his  "smooth  and  ready  wit"6  flows  freely. 

With  Shakespeare,  in  close  conversation,  is  Ben  Johnson. 
His  heavily  built  frame,  inclined  toward  stoutness,  is  in  striking 
contrast  to  Shakespeare  s  more  delicate  mould.  His  broad 
shoulders  and  sinewy  arms  suggest  a  laborer  rather  than  an  actor. 
His  large  head  is  thatched  with  an  unkempt  mass  of  grizzled 
curls.  The  forehead  is  broad  and  high,  and  the  features  rugged 
almost  to  coarseness.  The  firm  lines  of  the  chin,  partially 
concealed  by  the  bristling  beard,  express  definiteness  of  purpose, 
while  the  keen  eyes  look  out  upon  the  world  half  humorously, 
half  satirically. 

The  three  advance  to  the  side  of  the  mayor,  who  stands  near 
the  center  of  the  stage. 

Will  Spencer 

Worthy  Mayor,  to  our  humble  revels,  two  honored  guests 
I  bring,  Master  William  Shakespeare  and  Master  Ben  Jonson,  for 
whom  I  entreat  your  welcome. 

The  Mayor 

Beaming 

And  freely  is  it  given,  Youth.     Welcome,  Master  Shakespeare! 

Well  we  know  you,  the  friend  of  common  folk  no  less  than  a  king's 

favorite.     Welcome,   Master  Jonson!     For  thine  own   worth   first, 

6.     The  quoted  portions  of  this  paragraph  are  from  Walter  Raleigh's 
"Shakespeare,"    New    York,    1907,    page    1. 


44  Shakespeare,  the  Playmaker 

and  then  again  as  friend  of  Master  Shakespeare.     Thrice  welcome, 
both! 

In  obedience  to  a  sign  from  the  mayor,  ale  is  brought. 
They  stand  talking,  while  the  youth  wanders  off  to  join  in  the 
festivities. 

At  the  conclusion  of  the  May  dance,  soft  music  is  heard 
from  the  gypsy  tent,  which  has  been  put  up  at  the  left,  nearly 
half-way  back.  A  dark-eyed  gypsy  girl,  clad  in  many  colors, 
appears  and  performs  a  weird  and  graceful  dance,  characteristic 
of  her  race. 

Meanwhile,  the  puppet  master,  whose  booth  stands  at  left 
front,  calls  attention  to  the  performance  he  is  about  to  present. 

The  Puppet  Master 

Tuppence  apiece,  sirs!  See  the  lovely  Hero!  Merry-makers 
all,  watch  our  civil  company !  See  how  passing  well  the  young 
Leander  his  part  doth  play!  The  touching  history  of  Hero  and 
Leander!     Come  one,  come  all!     Tuppence  apiece,  sirs, — 

Tom  of  Bedlam 
Starting  up 
"Away!     The  foul  fiend  follows  me!" 

A  small  group  gathers  about  the  puppet  show.  Others 
watch  in  awestruck  silence  the  work  of  the  alchemist.  At  right 
front,  he  stands  in  a  dark,  vapor-filled  booth,  in  which  three 
colored  lights  glow,  a  green  one  to  the  left,  a  red  one  to  the 
right,  and  a  blue  one  in  the  center.  Dimly  outlined  in  the  mist 
is  seen  a  large  retort  and  a  stuffed  alligator,  and  moving  about 
in  the  murk,  the  alchemist  himself,  a  tall,  slender  man,  very 
handsome  in  his  skull  cap,  silky  white  beard,  and  flowing  black 
gown.  Before  him  on  a  rough  counter  is  a  row  of  bottles  filled 
with  the  "Elixir  of  Life,"  and  a  few  bars  of  alchemists'  gold, 
which  are  for  sale.  When  he  is  not  making  a  sale,  he  is 
methodically  grinding,  pouring  and  mixing  drugs  while  he 
mutters  mystic  incantations. 

Tom  of  Bedlam 

Before   the   booth 
"Poor  Tom's  a'cold!     Poor  Tom!" 

Shakespeare 
Poor  wretch  !     What  wilt  thou  do  when  winter  comes  ? 


The  Second  Part  45 

The  Hobby  horse  trots  up 
To  Jonson,  jocosely 
And   look  you,    Master  Jonson,   here   is   a  character   for   you! 
Pray,  put  him  in  your  latest  drama. 

Jonson 

Faith,  and  that  I  would  but  that  my  heart  misgives  me.  No 
coney-catcher  he!  I  would  not  then  condemn  him  to  live  through 
time  eternal.  But  come,  good  Mayor,  it  seems  the  revels  drumble. 
'Twere  fit  you  should  some  rustic  dance  contrive. 

The  Mayor 
To  the  Dragon  and  the  Hobby-horse,  who  have  been  cutting  capers 
Get  thee  hence,  monsters !     Now  shall  we  see  bold  Robin  Hood 
and  his  men  "foot  it  featly"  in  the  artful  Morris  dance. 

Robin  Hood 

What,  Ijo !  My  merry  men!  Hither,  Little  John,  Will 
Stukely,  and  all  you  gallant  lads!     Take  each  his  place. 

The  pipers  play  and  the  dance  begins.  The  older  folk 
stand  by  to  watch,  but  the  children  swarm  about  the  pastry  cooks 
who  have  been  crying  their  wares  thruout  the  scene. 

A  Pastry  Cook 
"Buy  any  ginger  bread,  gilt  ginger  bread  ?" 

A  Fruit  Vendor 
"Buy  any  pears,  pears,  fine,  very  fine  pears?" 

A  Pastry  Cook 

"Muffins,  crumpets,  peelets,  tea-cakes!     Sally  Lum  or  Coburg!" 
Sung  in  sing-song  manner,  on  two  notes 
The  Morris  dance  being  finished,  the  crowd  applauds  enthusiastically 

The  Mayor 

Well  done,  lads  and  lasses!  (To  Shakespeare  and  Jonson) 
What  think  you,  sirs,  of  this  our  Passy  Measure?  I  doubt  me  if  it 
sprightlier  could  be  done! 

John  Graham,  the  Puritan,  lacking  interest  in  the  dance, 
has  been  observing  the  witch  as  she  chases  the  children.  He 
accosts  the  mayor. 


46  Shakespeare,  the  Playmaker 

John  Graham 

'Tis  feared  that  yonder  woman  may  harm  our  children  with  her 
evil  eye.  She  seems  in  truth  a  witch.  Were  it  not  best  to  cast  her 
into  the  river  ?     An  she  be  a  witch,  she  will  float. 

The  Mayor 

Fool !  Know  you  not  that  yon  witch  is  none  but  Widow  Good- 
man hired  to  be  our  witch  this  day  ?     Cease  your  idle  prating. 

Failing  to  impress  the  Mayor  with  his  criticisms,  Graham 
argues  with  a  peddler  of  toys. 

The  Peddler 

"Rattles,  drums,  fiddles  of  the  finest!  Buy  a  hobby  horse!  Buy 
a  mouse-trap !  a  mouse-trap  I" 

John  Graham 

Peace,  thou  profane  publican.  Thy  hobby  horse  is  an  idol,  a 
very  idol,  a  fierce  and  rank  idol. 

Tom  of  Bedlam 
"This  is  the  foul  fiend  Flibberty gibbet !" 

The  Peddler 
"Cry  you,  merry  sir!     Will  you  buy  a  fiddle,  sir?" 

Tom  of  Bedlam 
"The  foul  fiend  haunts  poor  Tom!" 

A  Countryman 

Running  frantically  about,  shrieking  loudly 
"O   Lord,   my   purse  is  gone!     My  purse!     My   purse!     My 
purse!"7 

A  commotion  here  occurs  at  the  left.       A   toivnsman  has 
become  intoxicated. 

The  Townsman 

Raising  his  brimming  tankard  to  the  tapster,  who  smiles  broadly 
Good  drawer  of  ale,  here's  to  you  and — the  King — God  save 
m'm! 


7.     From   Ben  Jonson's   "Bartholomew   Fair,"   Act   IV. 


The  Second  Part  47 

Sings 

"And  let  me  the  canakin  clink,  clink ! 

And  let  me  the  canakin  clink! 

A  soldier's  a  man 

A  life's  but  a  span ; 

Why,  then,  let  a  soldier  drink!"8 

As  he  reaches  the  end  of  his  song,  the  constable,  who  has 
been  making  his  way  thru  the  crowd  from  the  extreme  right, 
seizes  him  by  the  collar. 

The  Crowd 

The  stocks !     The  stocks ! 

The  constable  clamps  the  drunkard  into  the  stocks.  His 
good  spirits  do  not  desert  him,  however.  He  continues  to  sing 
drowsily,  and  at  last  dozes  off. 

The  Constable 
*%  Mopping  his  face 

Some  ale,  I  pray  thee,  good  drawer! 
He  is  served 
"Here's  my  comfort!" 

As  he  raises  the  glass  to  his  lips,  some  small  boys  throw 
firecrackers  at  his  feet  and  then  dart  away.  He  is  so  startled 
that  he  drops  his  tankard  and  runs  off  in  pursuit  of  the  boys. 

Tom  of  Bedlam  now  squats  on  the  grass,  wailing  with  high 
pitched  voice  and  staring  eyes. 

Tom  of  Bedlam 

"Pillicock  sat  on  Pillicock  Hill:— 
Halloo,  halloo,  loo,  loo! 

He  starts  up 
Take  heed  of  the  foul  fiend — 
Peace,  thou  fiend!" 

A  Ballad-Monger 

'Tis  a  monstrous  sweet  ballad  of  Widow  Dido  I  bring  you, 
With  a  very  sweet  tune 
Which  sometime  I'll  sing  you. 
Oh,  Widow  Dido!    Widow  Dido! 

8.     From   "Othello,"   Act   II.,    Scene   III. 


48  Shakespeare,  the  Playmaker 

A  sailor,  John  Holdsworth,  in  oilskin  cap  and  sea-stained 
clothes,  now  advances  and  sets  up  a  staff  bearing  a  deer  skin  roll 
fastened  with  a  cord.  He  endeavors  to  attract  the  attention  of 
the  crowd. 

John  Holdsworth 

Hark  ye!    hark  ye!  good  people,  all,  while  John  Holdsworth, 
your  own  townsman,  a  wondrous  tale  of  the  new  world  doth  tell. 
The  village    youth    rushes  up  to  Shakespeare  and  Jonson, 
who,  with  the  mayor,  have  been  watching  the  alchemist  mix  his 
potions. 

Will  Spencer 

Master  Shakespeare,  see  you  yonder  sailor?  He  is  even  now 
about  to  relate  a  marvelous  tale  of  the  New  World.  Come  at  once! 
I  doubt  not  you  will  find  it  of  rare  interest. 

Shakespeare  and  Jonson  follow  the  youth,  the  former  smil- 
ing indulgently,  the  latter  openly  laughing  with  good-humored 
contempt. 

John  Holdsworth 

On  a  bright  June  day,  did  our  good  ship  come  to  anchor  in  the 
mouth  of  a  broad  river.  By  order  of  the  captain,  I,  with  divers  oth- 
ers, to  the  number  of  eight,  set  forward  to  discover  gold. 

The  Tapster 

Ay,  fool's  gold !    Thou  didst  find  it,  too,  I  warrant ! 

John  Holdsworth 

Whist,  friend!  A  civil  tongue  is  a  good  servant,  and  an  empty 
head  a  good  place  to  keep  it. 

The  country  thereabout  though  desert,  is  yet  exceeding  fertile, 
with  much  good  timber  even  of  divers  kinds,  and  strange  wild  plants 
wTith  blossoms  most  prodigious.  The  mulberry  trees  with  their  load 
full  low  did  bend  and  we  did  feast  ourselves  till  we  could  eat  no 

more.     But  being  nighted  there (He  leans  forward,  lowering 

his  voice  slightly,  at  which  the  crowd  gathers  closer  and  listens  more 

intently.)  we  knew  us  in  a  land  bewitched.     Scarcely  were  we 

upon  our  blankets  couched  'ere  we  felt  as  though  in  a  fiery  shroud. 

Jonson 

A  fiery  shroud !     What  mean  you  by  such  foolery  ?     Tell  us  but 
your  simple  story  and  rack  it  not. 


The   Second  Part  49 

John  Holdsworth 

And,  by'r  lady,  I  rack  it  not.  A  demon  did  the  land  control,  as 
I'm  a  living  man!  Great  plants  we  saw  that  did  with  uncanny  jaws 
insects  and  small  animals  imprison. 

Shakespeare 
With  interest 
And  think  you  this  was  the  work  of  evil  spirits? 

John  Holdsworth 

Ay,  it  was,  else  how  explain  it?  And  mark  you,  when  we 
sought  to  gather  wood  to  build  our  evening  fire,  angry  hedgehogs  in 
our  path  did  lie  and  grievously  did  torment  us. 

Shakespeare 
And  saw  you  naught  of  natives  there  ? 

John  Holdsworth 

Ay,  that  I  did.  In  faith,  I  once  had  bite  and  sup  with  them,  and 
to  that  happy  chance  I  owe  this  greatest  of  my  treasures.  (He 
pulls  the  cord  and  the  deer  skin  falls  to  its  full  length,  revealing  the 
picture  of  a  hideous  monster.)  This  is  the  great  god  Piasa,  the 
mightiest  god  of  the  New  World.9  While  the  Indians  did  lie  asleep, 
I  filched  it  from  their  tepee.  An  had  any  caught  me,  I  had  been 
done  to  death.  (The  entire  crowd  is  now  giving  attention,  and 
Holdsworth  seizes  the  opportunity  to  take  up  a  collection.  He  passes 
the  hat,  into  which  sundry  small  coins  are  tossed.  He  continues 
talking.)  The  great  god  Piasa!  The  demon  of  the  New  World! 
And  you  prove  it  a  cheat,  I'll  give  ye  a  tuppence! 

Tom  of  Bedlam 

Ay,  they'd  give  a  tuppence  to  see  a  "dead  Indian,"  but  ne'er  a 
bit  to  a  poor  beggar  for  his  clack-dish. 

JONSON 
To  Shakespeare,  aside 
Master  Shakespeare,  there's  a  strange  monster  for  you.     Why 
not  put  him  in  one  of  your  monstrous  plays?    You  with  your  disre- 


9.  Piasa  is  the  name  given  to  a  prehistoric  rock  painting  formerly 
on  the  face  of  a  bluff  on  the  Mississippi  river,  near  the  present  city  of 
Alton,   Illinois,   and   first   discovered    by   Marquette   in    1673. 


50  Shakespeare,  the  Play  maker 

gard  for  proprieties  would  find  him  a  rare  hero.     Come,  write  us 
something  new. 

Shakespeare 

An  excellent  idea.  In  truth,  one  I  should  not  look  to  you  for, 
Ben.  You  spurn  all  else  but  the  stuff  of  shops  and  streets;  your 
imagery  is  clogged  with  books  and  rules. 

Jonson 

That  is  well,  Master  Will.  Jeer  at  books  and  rules  an  you  will. 
You  write  for  the  passing  day;  I.  for  all  time.  The  difference  is 
vast. 

Shakespeare 

Al  using 
And  what  care  I  for  that?    The  present  joy  is  mine — to  dream, 
to  play,  to  do. 

A  song  is  heard  from  the  river  and  the  rioters  stop  to  listen 

"I  shall  no  more  to  sea,  to  sea, 
Here  will  I  die  ashore.'' 

The  Crowd 

'Tis  they!  Home  again  from  the  Indies!  Gates!  Strachey! 
They  come !    They  come ! 

A  boat,  bearing  three  men  besides  the  oarsmen,  Sir  Thomas 
Gates,  William  Strachey,  and  John  Oxenham,  anchors  at  the 
quay.     They  step  out  and  the  mayor  advances  to  meet  them. 

The  Mayor 

Welcome,  fellow  townsmen.  Prospectors  in  an  unknown  world ! 
In  the  name  of  the  Corporation,  I  give  you  greeting!  'Tis  a  bright 
day  that  sees  you  again  in  Gravesend.    You  are  ever  welcome ! 

Sir  Thomas  Gates 

Ay,  and  bright  it  is,  though  yon  cloud  obscures  the  sun.  'Tis 
well,  else  the  bright  faces  of  our  village  maids  might  bewilder  our 
sight.  Merry,  friends,  there's  no  scent  to  my  mind  like  this  old 
home  scent  in  all  the  spice  islands  I  ever  sailed  by ! 

The  Second  Townsman 

And  were  you  in  truth  to  the  Indies?  And  are  such  things  as 
they  do  speak  of? 


The  Second  part  51 

Sir  Thomas  Gates 

The  list  of  our  voyage  was  Virginia,  but  at  the  bidding  of  the 
tempest  were  we  driven  far  from  our  course.    We 

The  Mayor 
Interrupting 
Whence  then,  are  you  come? 

Sir  Thomas  Gates 

From  a  new  world,  sir,  an  isle  of  devils,  fraught  with  unbe- 
lievable adventures,  and  peopled  with  inhuman  shapes.  There  magic 
plays  mad  pranks  with  romance  and  riches  know  no  limit.  Verily,  a 
place  where  age  finds  youth,  and  youth  finds  all  enchantment. 

Shakespeare  and  Jonson,  who  have  been  greeting  Strachey, 
approach  the  group  in  time  to  hear  this  speech. 

Jonson 

Laughing 
How,  now!     More  monsters!     More  witchcraft!  'Twere  well, 
Master  Will,  you  miss  no  jot  or  tittle.     The  time  is  ripe  for  some 
new  tale  of  sorcery. 

Shakespeare 

Impatiently 
An  you  could  still  your  chatter,  Ben,  we  might  hear. 

To  Gates 
Prithee,  sir,  tell  us  more.     What  of  this  isle  bewitched?     Saw 
you  indeed  such  wonders? 

Sir  Thomas  Gates 

Ay,  and  many  more.  Most  marvelous  things  I  could  tell.  But 
home  awaits  me;  no  longer  would  I  keep  me  from  its  hearth.  My 
valiant  companions  can  speak  as  well  as  I.    I  pray  you  pardon  me. 

The  Crowd 

Make  way!     Make  way  for  Sir  Thomas  Gates! 

Gates  walks  off,  looking  reminiscently  about  him.  Strachey, 
Oxenham,  and  the  others,  who  have  been  greeting  friends  in  the 
crowd,  now  join  the  central  group.  A  burly,  grizzled  man  in 
sea-stained  clothing,  slaps  Strachey  on  the  back. 


52  Shakespeare,  the  Playmaker 

The  Sailor 

Heigh,  my  hearty,  wilt  have  ale  to  cheer  ye  or  a  bit  of  the  weed? 

The  Mayor 

Pray  you,  be  seated.  Would  it  please  you  to  discourse  further 
of  your  adventures? 

The  Tapster 
Ay,  "here  is  that  which  will  give  language  to  you." 
Ale  is  served 

JONSON 

Lifting  his  glass 
Here's  to  the  enchanted  land  of  which  we  would  hear!     And 
were  I  master  there,  I  should  have  "my  cellar  in  a  rock  by  the  sea- 
side," with  sprites  to  serve  celestial  liquor! 

They  drink.    Long  Winchester  pipes  and  tobacco  are  passed 
and  the  men  smoke. 

Shakespeare 

And  now  what  of  the  storm,  the  tempest,  which  drove  you  from 
your  course? 

William  Strachey 

"I  had  been  in  storms  before,  but  all  I  had  ever  suffered  gath- 
ered together  might  not  hold  comparison  to  this.  We  could  not  ap- 
prehend in  our  imaginations  any  possibilities  of  greater  violence;  yet 
was  fury  added  to  fury  and  one  storme  urging  a  second  more  out- 
rageous than  the  former.  It  could  not  be  said  to  raine,  the  waters 
like  whole  Rivers  did  flood  the  ayre.  Our  clamours  drowned  in  the 
windes  and  the  windes  in  thunder,  the  sea  swelled  above  the  clouds, 
and  gave  battell  unto  Heaven."10 

The  First  Townsman 
And  the  ship  ?    How  did  she  withstand  this  terrible  onslaught  ? 

William  Strachey 

Ay,  there  was  not  a  moment  in  which  the  sodaine,  splitting  or 
oversetting  of  the  Shippe  was  not  expected.  When  the  gale  arose,  "we 

10.  All  quoted  lines  used  in  describing-  the  tempest  are  taken 
verbatim  from  Strachey's  narrative  "The  Wreck  and  Redemption  of  Sir 
Thomas  Gates,"  which  is  generally  supposed  to  have  suggested  to 
Shakespeare  the   idea  of  "The  Tempest." 

See   Cairns,    "Early   American   Writers,"   N.    Y.,    1910,    page    19. 


The  Second  Part  53 

received  a  mighty  leake.  This  leakage  appeared  as  a  wound  given  to 
men  that  were  before  dead.  We  almost  drowned  within,  whilst  we 
sat  looking  when  to  perish  from  above." 

The  Mayor 

How  came  you  then  ashore  ? 

William  Strachey 

Reverently 
By  Providence  divine. 

John  Oxenham 

Interrupting 
Ay,  Providence  it  may  have  been,  but  a  spirit  did  guide  us  safe. 

The  Crowd 

Amazed 
A  spirit! 

John  Oxenham 

Even  so.  "Upon  the  Thursday  night"  when  the  powers  of 
Heaven  seemed  bent  on  our  destruction,  "Sir  George  Somers,  being 
upon  the  watch,  saw  an  apparition  of  a  little  round  light  like  a  faint 
Starre." 

Shakespeare 

And  this  spirit  did  guide  you? 

John  Oxenham 

Ay,  "it  trembled  with  a  sparkeling  blaze,  and  shooting  sometimes 
from  Shroud  to  Shroud,"  did  light  us  on  our  way. 

Shakespeare 
Was  it  a  spirit  of  the  air? 

John  Oxenham 

Of  the  air,  or  the  sea,  or  the  devil,  we  know  not,  but,  by'r  lakin, 
it  served  us  miraculously. 

The  Old  Man 

But  of  your  island,  man,  of  fabulous  wealth,  what  of  it?  Have 
done  with  this  meaningless  chatter  and  tell  us  of  what  does,  in  faith, 
more  interest  us. 


54  Shakespeare,  the  Playmaker 

John  Oxenham 

Angrily 
Mayhap,  he  should  "carry  this  island  home  in  his  pocket  and 
give  it  his  son  for  an  apple." 

William  Strachey 

Ay,  or  "sowing  the  kernels  of  it  in  the  sea,  bring  forth  more 
islands."  But  to  the  island,  an  you  will.  "Almost  inaccessible"  it  is 
but  of  a  "delicate  temperance."  The  grass  grew  lush  and  lusty,  and 
there  was  "everything  advantageous  to  life" ;  an  isle  prodigious,  "full 
of  noises  and  sweet  airs  that  give  delight  and  hurt  not.  Sometimes  a 
thousand  twangling  instruments  will  hum  about  the  ears." 

John  Oxenham 

But  yet  some  drawbacks  we  found.  At  times  we  felt  peculiar 
cramps,  as  some  elf  did  pinch  us,  but  we  could  see  nothing.  It  seemed 
some  master  spirit  did  rule  the  island.  And  had  we  the  magic  to 
subdue  it,  we  had  been  kings  indeed. 

The  Tapster 

Ay,  a  servant  spirit,  that's  to  my  liking. 

Shakespeare 

Did  naught  but  spirits  this  isle  inhabit? 

William  Strachey 

"I  saw  such  islanders,  who,  though  they  are  of  monstrous  shape, 
yet,  their  manners  are  more  gentle-kind,  than  of  our  human  genera- 
tion you  shall  find  many." 

John  Oxenham 

Excitedly 
Ay,  but  we  did  hear  of  men  "whose  heads  stood  in  their  breasts"; 
of  men  like  fish,  and  fish  like  men,  with  finny  arms,  and  hairy,  scaly 
skins,  whose  limbs  did  not  support  them  upright,  but  they  did  creep 
along  the  ground  .  Great  claws  they  had  for  fingers  with  which  they 
dug  for  food.  They  had  voices  like  to  human  but  with  strange 
roarings  in  them,  not  earthly.  A  very  hagseed,  a  race  which  none 
would  own.  Had  I  one  such  in  England,  'twould  make  my  fortune 
on  a  holiday. 

The  Tapster 

Ay,  a  servant  monster,  that's  to  my  liking! 


The  Second  Part  55 

Jonson 

An  you  don't  weave  a  tale,  Master  Shakespeare,  anon,  I  will 
myself  attempt  it,  albeit  "I  am  loth  to  make  nature  afraid  in  my 
plays,  like  those  that  beget  tales,  tempests,  and  such  like  drolleries."11 

The  Tapster 

Didst  say  you  saw  such  monsters? 

William  Strachey 

Nay,  we  saw  them  not,  but  as  I  saw  things  strange  and  beyond 
belief,  so  could  I  almost  credit  what  was  told  me.  What  think  you 
of  a  fiendish  dog,  a  wer-wolf,  which  in  one  day  a  thousand  wild  hogs 
did  kill?12  And,  indeed,  the  people  of  the  island,  gentle  though  they 
be,  were  almost  monsters  in  their  likeness,  as  they  did  daub  coloring 
on  their  bodies,  and  in  glittering  plumage  did  deck  themselves,  and 
ornaments  of  gold. 

The  Mayor 

>  Excitedly 

Gold!     Say  you  gold! 

A  clap  of  thunder  interrupts.  The  people  gather  more 
closely  about  the  sailors,  paying  little  attention  to  the  coming 
storm. 

John  Oxenham 

Ay,  gold !  There's  more  gold  in  the  Bermoothes  than  would 
pave  the  streets  of  London.  Why  it  grows  there  as  plentifully  as 
cherries  in  Kent.  As  I  live,  I  saw  it!  A  cave  filled  with  gold,  as 
I'm  a  Christian  man.  An  you  don't  believe  me,  go  and  see.  But  we 
did  bring  with  us  some  Indian  natives  of  the  \s\c(he  looks  toward  the 
dock)  who  even  now  are  coming. 

There  is  a  general  craning  of  necks  toward  the  approaching  boat 

William  Strachey 

They  are  natives  of  the  Indies,  but  of  the  West,  not  the  East. 
The  country  there  is  rife  with  such.  We  brought  with  us  two  of 
these  Indians,  who,  as  you  will  see,  do  in  stature  greatly  resemble 
white  men.  Further  inland,  no  doubt,  they  become  more  distorted 
until  their  human  semblance  is  quite  destroyed. 

11.  From    the    Introduction   to    Ben    Jonson's    "Bartholomew    Fair." 

12.  This  fiendish  dog:  described  in  some  verses  entitled  "News  from 
Virginia  With  the  Happy  Arrival  of  Sir  Thomas  Gates,  may  have  sug- 
gested to  Shakespeare  the  dogs  which  he  set  upon  Caliban.  Trinculo  and 
Stephano. 


56  Shakespeare,  the  Playmaker 

The  boat  pulls  in  to  the  dock.  The  Indians,  escorted  by 
the  sailors,  approach  amid  exclamations  of  wonder  from  the 
crowd. 

Shakespeare 
To  Jonson 
What  strange  beings  these  are!  Mark  their  coppery  skin  and 
hair  that  doth  lie  coarse  and  straight.  And,  methinks,  the  Indians 
see  as  strange  a  sight  as  do  the  English.  Why  is't,  in  faith,  they 
show  no  wonder  ?  One  might  think  a  Mayday  festival  were  to  them 
a  boresome  pastime. 

Jonson 
And  so,  perchance,  it  is.    We  wis  not  of  what  wild  orgies  these 
monster  men  are  capable.     ( To  the  Interpreter)     I  have  heard  much 
of  their  strange  dances.     Let  them  show  us  their  skill. 

The  Indians  respond  to  their  interpreter's  request  with 
grunts  of  approval,  and  dance  for  the  crowd  a  native  dance. 

The  Indians  now  notice  the  picture  of  the  sailor  s  monster, 
which  still  stands  at  back  of  stage.  They  walk  toward  the  pic- 
ture, uttering  strange,  guttural  sounds. 

William  Strachey 
To  the  Interpreter 
What,  pray,  do  they  see  in  that  prodigy  to  cause  such  strange 
behaviour? 

The  Interpreter 

After  talking  with  Indians 

Whence   came   that   picture?     The    Indians   recognize   it  as  a 

picture  of  the  Piasa.     They  say  the  original  is  painted  upon  a  high 

cliff  on  the  banks  of  a  great  river  which  flows  through  the  forest.    I, 

myself,  have  seen  it  in  Indian  camps.    By  some  tribes  it  is 

His  words  are  drowned  by  another  crash  of  thunder.  The 
wind  begins  to  blow  furiously.  The  revelers,  collecting  their 
property,  hurry  off.  The  sailor,  Holdsworth,  has  some  trouble  in 
rolling  up  his  picture,  and  is  among  the  last  to  leave.  Shakespeare 
stands  watching  him,  as  the  Mayor,  Strachey  and  Jonson  move 
toward  flic  right. 

Shakespeare 
To  himself 
And  so  it  is  in  truth  a  monster  of  the  New  World  and  no  crea- 
tion of  a  drunken  sailor's  mind. 


The  Second  Part  57 

He  follows  the  sailor  to  the  left  exit 
The  Mayor 
The  storm  is  upon  us!    Come,  gentlemen  to  the  inn! 

The  men  hurry  off  to  the  right,  the  Indians  with  them.  All, 

even   to  Jonson,  are  too  intent  upon  reaching  shelter  to  notice 

Shakespeare,  who  remains  under  the  tree,  on  the  deserted  green. 

He  is  pondering  over  what  he  has  heard  of  the  strange  new  land 

with  its  magic  spells,  its  gentle  spirits,  and  its  uncouth  monsters. 

The  sky  has  grown  very  dark.  Amid  flashes  of  lightning 
and  rumble  of  thunder,  a  dance  of  earth  spirits  takes  place  The 
dance  concluded,  they  vanish  in  a  terrific  clap  of  thunder  which 
rouses  Shakespeare  from  his  reverie. 

Shakespeare 
Rapturously 
The  Tempest !    What  a  storm  for  a  ship  wreck !    An  enchanted 
isle!      Spirits!,    (Ariel  is  seen   for  an   instant  and  then   vanishes.) 
Witchcraft!     (Sycorax  appears  and  hobbles  across  the  stage  at 
the  rear.) 

Monsters!      (Caliban  crawls  across  the  stage  after  Sycorax) 
Youth   and   romance!      (Ferdinand  and  Miranda   trip  blithely 
past.) 

And  I,  Prospero,  the  master  of  it  all. 

There  is  a  lull  in  the  storm.  Night  is  coming  on,  but 
Shakespeare  is  still  wrapped  in  his  thoughts. 

Shakespeare 

To  weave,  perforce  from  out  these  strands! 
Come,  spirits  of  my  fancy !  fetch  my  robe, 
The  which  doth  give  me  power,  to  this  place. 
Bestow  it  on  my  shoulders;  that  I  may 
Conceive  for  future  time  and  divers  folk 
A  triumph  of  mine  art — The  Tempest! 

He  sinks  down  upon  a  bench  and  falls  into  a  reverie.  The 
stage  slowly  darkens  until  nothing  can  be  seen.  The  storm 
breaks  anew  with  redoubled  fury.  The  wind  blows  a  gale,  the 
lightning  flashes,  and  the  thunder  roars.  Above  the  tumult,  the 
voices  of  the  men  on  the  ship  are  heard,  as  they  struggle  for 
their  lives.  The  lines  are  taken  from  the  opening  scene  of  "The 
Tempest." 


58  Shakespeare,  the  Playmaker 

Boatswain 

"Heigh,  my  hearts;  cheerly,  cheerly,  my  hearts;  yare,  yare;  take 
in  the  topsail ;  Tend  to  the  master's  whistle ;  —  Blow  till  thou  burst, 
thou  wind,  if  room  enough! 

Alonzo 
"Where's  the  Master?     .     .     . 

Boatswain 
"Keep  below!     .     .     . 

Antonio 
"Where's  the  master?     .     .     . 

Boatswain 

"Hence!  To  cabin!  Silence!  Out  of  our  way!  Down  with 
the  top-mast!  Yare!  lower,  lower;  bring  her  to  try  with  main 
course.  (Cries  from  within)  "Plague  on  this  howling!  Silence! 
Lay  her  ahold,  ahold;  set  her  two  courses;  off  to  sea,  lay  her  off. 

Mariners 
"All  lost!     To  prayers,  to  prayers!    All  lost! 

Confused  Voices 

"Mercy  on  us!  We  split,  we  split!  Farewell,  my  wife  and 
children!  Farewell,  brother!  We  split,  we  split!  God's  will  be 
done!" 

Soft  music  is  heard 
The  fury  of  the  storm  abates.     The  stage  slowly  lightens, 
revealing  Scene  II,  The  Island,  before  the  cell  of  Prospero. 

Enter  Shakespeare,  as  Prospero,  and  Miranda 

Then  follow  in  abridged  form  the  scenes  from  "The  Tem- 
pest'' in  which  Prospero,  Miranda,  Ferdinand,  Caliban,  Ariel, 
Stephano  and  Trinculo  play  the  leading  parts,  the  lines  of  all 
the  other  characters  being  omitted.  The  presentation  of  "The 
Tempest"  closes  with  the  following  adaptation  of  Shakespeare's 
lines  after  the  masque  of  Iris,  Ceres,  and  Juno,  which  Prospero 
has  devised  to  celebrate  the  "contract  of  true  love"  of  Ferdinand 
and  Miranda: 


The  Second   Part  59 


Ferdinand 


"This  is  a  most  majestic  vision. 
May  I  be  bold  to  think  these  spirits? 

Prospero 

"Spirits,  which  by  mine  art  I 
Have  from  their  confines  called  to  enact 
My  present  fancies. 

Ferdinand 

"Let  me  live  here  ever; 
So  rare  a  wonder'd  father  and   a  wise 
Makes  this  place  Paradise. 

Prospero 

"You  do  look,  my  son,  in  a  mov'd  sort, 

As  if  you  were  dismayed:  be  cheerful,  sir. 

Our  revels  now  are  ended.     These  our  actors, 

As  I  foretold  you,  were  all  spirits  and 

Are  melted  into  air,  into  thin  air; 

And,  like  the  baseless  fabric  of  this  vision, 

The  cloud-capp'd  towers,  the  gorgeous  palaces, 

The  solemn  temples,  the  great  globe  itself, 

Yea,   all  which  it  inherit,  shall  dissolve 

And,  like  this  insubstantial  pageant  faded, 

Leave  not  a  rack  behind.     We  are  such  stuff 

As  dreams  are  made  on,  and  our  little  life 

Is  rounded  with  a  sleep :   ( Taking  both  their  hands 

in  his)   I'll  deliver  all; 
And  promise  you  calm  seas,  auspicious  gales 
And  sail  so  expeditious  that  shall  catch 
Your  royal  fleet  far  off. 

Miranda 

In  ecstacy 
"O,  wonder! 
How  many  goodly  creatures  are  there  here! 
How  beauteous  mankind  is!     O  brave  new  world 
That  has  such  people  in't!" 

With  Mirandas  closing  words,  the  stage  is  darkened.  Light 
returns  gradually  and  Shakespeare  is  again  revealed,  seated  on 
the  rustic  seat  on   the  village  green.     He  arouses  himself  and 


60  Shakespeare,  the  Play  maker 

walks  to  the  center  of  the  stage.     Then  to  soft  music  he  speaks 
the  lines  of  the  play,  in  which  he  gives  over  his  art. 

Shakespeare 

"Ye  elves  of  rills,  and  brooks,  standing  lakes,  and  groves, 
.     .     .     .     by  whose  aid     ...     I  have  bedimm'd 
The  noontide  sun,  call'd  forth  the  mutinous  winds, 

and  rifted  Jove's  stout  oak 
With  his  own  bolt: 
The  strong-based  promontory 
Have  I  made  shake ;  and  by  the  spurs  pluck'd  up 
The  pine  and  cedar;  graves  at  my  command, 
Have  waked  their  sleepers,  op'd,  and  let  'em  forth 
By  my  so  potent  art.     But  this  rough  magic 
I  here  abjure     .     .     .     I'll  break  my  staff, 
Bury  it  certain  fathoms  in  the  earth, 
And  deeper  than  did  ever  plummet  sound 
I'll  drown  my  book." 

He  leaves  the  stage 


SHje  lEptlng 

The  astrologer  enters,  attended  by  the  Chorus  of  Stars, 
bearing  a  brazier  with  glowing  coals,  symbolic  of  the  fires  of 
poesy.       Then  all  the  characters  of  the  masque  enter. 

The  Chorus  of  Stars 

In  remembrance,  in  remembrance, 

Let  a  hymn  of  gladness  rise 
In  remembrance,  in  remembrance, 

Come,  we'll  carol  through  the  skies. 
Carol,  till  the  heaving  ocean 

Till  the  hills  with  joy  abound 
Carol,  till  the  forests  echo. 

Till  the  teeming  earth  resounds. 

In  remembrance,  in  remembrance, 

Let  the  ills  of  life  relent 
In  remembrance,  in  remembrance, 

Let  the  chafing  heart  repent. 
Patience  —  for  the  dawning  morrow 


The   Second  Part  6l 

With  her  cloak  conceals  the  moon  — 
Patience  —  for  the  Muses  borrow 

Other  spirits.     Grant  them  room! 

The  Astrologer 

His  was  a  spirit  that  no  time  can  chill 
No  tomb  extinguish,  and  no  envy  kill. 

A  pause 
I  saw  of  late  within  these  flames  his  face; 
I  saw  and  bowed  as  if  before  a  seer. 
I  saw,  and  feared,  and  shook  before  his  gaze 
And  shuddered  at  his  gleaming,  piercing  eyes. 
O  eyes!  alight,  alive,  aflame! 

A  pause 
Yes,  and  methinks,  if  longing  bears  its  fruit — 
Some  spirit's  pulse  shall  answer  Nature's  lute  — 
Some  tongue  shall  speak,  some  master  hand  yet  write ; 
God  may  withhold  but  not  destroy  the  light. 

To   The  Chorus  of  Stars 
Arise,  arise,  ye  tenders  of  the  fire ! 
Ye  sacred  spirits,  living,  burning  brands  — 
And  speed  with  peace  across  the  surging  deep, 
Across  the  craggy  mount,  the  glowing  sand. 
Speed,  for  the  warriors  cry,  the  wounded  groan, 
And  drunken  Mars  quaffs  heroes'  blood  and  reels. 
Speed,  for  the  winds  arise,  the  thunders  swell, 
The  flickering  flame  that  gleamed  doth  pale  and  wane. 
Speed!  for  the  lightnings  play — the  salt  sea  moans; 
The  moon  grows  ruddy  and  the  earth  grows  cold. 
Speed ! 

I        They  leave  the  stage,  singing  as  they  go 

In  remembrance,  in  remembrance, 

Let  a  hymn  of  gladness  rise. 
In  remembrance,  in  remembrance, 

Come,  we'll  carol  through  the  skies. 
Carol,  till  the  heaving  ocean, 

Till  the  hills  with  joy  abound 
Carol,  till  the  forests  echo, 

Till  the  teeming  earth  recounds. 


QJIjp  Satttaft*  ©ipatre 

The  dedication  of  the  Bankside  Theater,  in  191 4,  marked  a 
new  phase  in  the  modern  movement  toward  the  Theater  of  Nature, 
which  is  rapidly  coming  into  favor  on  the  Continent  and  with  us. 
The  name  "Bankside"  was  suggested  by  its  location  on  the  banks 
of  a  gentle  stream  which  flows  in  graceful  curves  across  our  Uni- 
cersity  Campus.  It  was  also  suggested  by  that  region  of  old  Londan 
where  stood  the  theater  of  William  Shakespeare.  Our  open-air 
theater  is  a  distinct  contribution  to  the  history  of  the  outdoor  stage, 
being  the  first  to  utilize  the  natural  curve  of  a  stream  as  the  fore- 
ground of  the  scene,  between  the  stage  and  the  amphitheater.  The 
stage  is  approximately  one  hundred  feet  wide  and  forty  feet  deep. 
The  illusion  of  the  lovely  natural  setting,  of  the  reflectinos  in  the  quiet 
stream,  either  by  day  or  by  night,  is  truly  wonderful.  The  stream 
is  just  eighteen  feet  in  width  here,  and  the  acoustic  properties  con- 
tributed by  the  water  add  much  to  its  effectiveness.  Every  seat  in 
the  amphitheater  (which  will  accommodate  conveniently  an  audience 
of  three  thousand)  is  adequate  for  both  seeing  and  hearing  perfectly. 

We  are  indebted  to  Mr.  Percy  MacKaye,  Mr.  Percival  Chubb, 
Mr.  Frank  Chouteau  Brown,  and  others  for  valuable  suggestions 
in  planning  a  permanent  architectural  setting  for  our  outdoor 
theater.  We  hope  to  begin  the  work  of  construction  this  summer. 
The  plan  provides  for  a  colonnade  of  Greek  columns  on  the  crest 
of  the  bankside  to  frame  picturesquely  our  Theater  of  Nature.  It 
is  our  purpose  to  preserve  and  enhance  its  native  charm,  and,  with 
this  end  in  view,  the  grassy  slope  of  the  amphitheater  will  be  re- 
tained, but  the  sod  will  be  terraced,  the  only  structural  additions 
being  radiating  aisles  in  concrete  to  perfect  the  seating  arrangements. 
More  trees  and  shrubs  will  be  planted  to  screen  the  stage  and  the 
approaches.  Altogether  the  effect  of  the  completed  Bankside  should 
be  unique  and  beautiful.  F.  H.  K. 


The   First   Out-of-door   Stage  at    the    University    of 
North    Dakota.      "Twelfth    Night,"    1910 


The    Original    Plan    of    the    Bankside    Theatre 


FRANK    LE    ROND    McVEY 

President    of   the   University    of   North    Dakota 


PROFESSOR    FREDERICH    H.    KOCH 
Founder    and    Director    of    the    Sock    and    Buskin    Society 


Am 

i                                   ^ 

i        ^  ,*~M 

lk    a  in 


A     Scene     from     "Twelfth     Night,*'     given    by    th 
Buskin  Society,   1910 
Clown:      Sir  Toby,    there  you    lie.     Act   II,   Scene   III. 


A  Scene  from  "Much  Ado  About  Nothing-,"  given  by  the  Sock 

and    Buskin    Society,    1916 
Benedict:      I    should    think   this    a    gull,    but    that    the   white- 
bearded  fellow  speaks  it.     Act  II,   Scene  III. 


A    scene    from    "Much    Ado    About    Nothing,"  given   by   the    Sock  and    Buskin   Society, 
Beatrice:     But  then  there  was  a  star  danced,  and  under  that 
I   was   born.     Act   II,    Scene    I. 


1916. 


>;* 


o    » 
CG    m 


•  -  -.'.  •*: 


A  Scene  from  "Much  Ado  About  Nothing-,"  given  by  the  Sock  and  Buskin 

Society,    1916 
Leonato:  Do  not  live,  Hero;  do  not  ope  thine  eyes.     Act  IV,  Scene  I. 


Rehearsal   of   a   Scene  from   "As   You    Like    It,"    by   the    Sock   and    Buskin 
Society  Players  on   the   Stage   of  the   "Little   Play-House,    1916. 


<         v       >    t      v 


Rehearsal   of   a   Scene   from   "Macbeth,"    by    the    Sock   and  Buskin   Society 
Players    on    the    Stage    of    the    "Little    Play-House,"    1916 


Rehearsal  of   a   Scene  from   "As   You    Like   It,"    by    the   Sock   and    Buskin 
Society    Players   on   the   Stage   of   the   "Little   Play-House,    1916 


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